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http://www.archive.org/details/outlinesofpsychoOOsull 



WORKS BY JAMES SULLY. 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY, with Special Refer- 
ence to the Theory of Education. A Text-Book for 
Colleges. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

TEACHER'S HAND-BOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

On the Basis of " Outlines of Psychology." Abridged 
by the author for the use of Teachers, Schools, Reading- 
Circles, and Students generally. i2mo. 445 pages. 

Cloth, $1.50. 

ILLUSIONS : A Psychological Study. i2mo. 372 
pages. Cloth, $1.50. 

PESSIMISM : A History and a Criticism. Second 
edition. 8vo. 470 pages and Index. Cloth, $4.00. 

THE HUMAN MIND. A Text-Book of Psychology. 
8vo. 2 vols. Cloth, $5.00. 



New York: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, Publishers. 



OUTLINES 
OF PSYCHOLOGY 



WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE 
THEORY OF EDUCATION 



BY 

JAMES SULLY, M. A., LL. D. 

GROTE PROFESSOR OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF MIND AND LOGIC 

AT THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON J 

AUTHOR OF ILLUSIONS, ETC. 



NEW EDITION, REVISED AND LARGELY REWRITTEN 



h I 

NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1892 



<N\ 



L ^ ' 



Copyright, 1892, 
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



Electrotyped and Printed 
at the appleton press, u. s. a. 



/ tv? 



; : 



PREFACE TO NEW EDITION. 



In this new edition I have endeavoured to make the 
Outlines of Psychology a more complete introduction to the 
science. The publication of a work specially designed for 
the educator (The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology) has 
enabled me to reduce the sections dealing with the appli- 
cations of psychology to the technical work of the teacher. 
At the same time I have endeavoured to retain as much 
as possible of the practical element of the earlier editions. 
The order of exposition has been altered so as to bring it 
into line with my recently published treatise, The Human 
Mind. A few drawings have been added, which may, I 
trust, be found useful to the student. 

I am greatly indebted to Mr. S. Alexander, of Lincoln 
College, Oxford, and to Mr. J. Armitage Smith, of the 
Birkbeck Institute, both of whom have kindly read through 
proof-sheets of the volume, and suggested valuable emen- 
dations. 

Hampstead, October, 1892. 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. 
INTRODUCTORY. 

CHAPTER I. 
Scope and Method of Psychology. 

PAGE 

Definition of Psychology I 

How we come to know Mind : 

(a) Subjective Observation ........ 3 

(3) External or Objective Study of Mind ..... 4 

Combination of Internal and External Observation ... 5 

General Knowledge of Mind ........ 6 

Psychological Method : 

Analysis . . . . . . . . . . .7 

Synthesis — The Genetic Method ....... 8 

Experiment in Psychology ........ 9 

The Psychical in its connexion with the Physical .... 9 

Mind and its Environment : Social Conditions . . . .10 

Relation of Psychology to other Sciences . . . . . .11 

Psychology and Practical Science . . . . . . .12 

Relation of Psychology to Education . ...... 14 

References for Reading 15 

CHAPTER II. 

The Physical Basis of Mental Life. 

Connexion of Mind with Body 16 

Structure of Nervous System : Nerves and Nerve-Centres . . .17 
Function of Nerve-Structures : 

(a) Of Nerves 21 

(b) Of Nerve-Centres 22 

Inhibitory Action of Central Structures ...... 22 

Mode of Working of Nervous System ....... 23 

The " Seat " or Special Organs of Consciousness 24 



VI 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



PAGE 

The Brain as Organ of Mind 25 

Correlation of Nervous and Psychical Processes . . . . .27 

Cerebral and Mental Development 28 

Physical Substrate of Individuality : Temperament . . . .29 

Practical Bearing of the Correlation of Mind and Brain . . .30 

References for Reading .31 



PART II. 
GENERAL VIEW OF MIND. 

CHAPTER III. 

Constituents of Mind. 

Mental Life Divisible into Certain Functions 32 

Feeling, Knowing, and Willing 33 

Primary Intellectual Functions 34 

Constituent Elements of Feeling : Pleasure and Pain . . -35 
Fundamental Functions in Willing ...... 36 

Mental Functions and Faculties ....... 36 

Physiological Concomitants of Mental Function . . . .37 

Relation of Feeling, Knowing, and Willing 38 

Truths or Laws of Mind 40 

Value of Analysis of Mind to the Educator . ..... 41 

References for Reading .42 



CHAPTER IV. 
Primitive Psychical Elements : Sensations, etc. 

Elements and their Combination 43 

(a) Sensations. 
Definition of Sensation ......... 43 

Presentative and Affective Element in Sensation . . . .44 

General or Common Sensation : Organic Sense 45 

Specialised Sensibility : Special Senses 46 

Distinguishable Aspects or Characters of Sensation . . . -47 
(a) Intensity ......■•■•• 47 

Relation of Intensity to Strength of Stimulus . . . .48 

(3) Quality of Sensation . . . . . . . .49 

Physiological Conditions of Quality 50 

Extensity : Local Distinctness . . . . . . . 51 

Duration : Protensive Magnitude 52 



CONTENTS. Vii 
The Series of Senses : Taste and Smell. 

PAGE 

Sense of Taste 53 

Sense of Smell ........... 55 

Sense of Touch. 

General Nature of Tactual Sense ....... 56 

Thermal Sensations .......... 59 

Value of Sense of Touch 60 

Hearing. 

Characteristics of Auditory Sensations ...... 61 

(a) Musical Sensations ......... 62 

(b) Non-Musical Sensations : Noises ...... 63 

Value of Sense of Hearing ......... 64 

Sight. 
Characteristics of Visual Sense . . . . . . . .65 

Colour-Sensations .......... 66 

Movement and Muscular Sense. 

Definition of Muscular Sense ........ 68 

Varieties of Muscular Sensations . . . . . . . .69 

(a) Experience without Movement : Sensations of Position . . 70 

(6) Experience of Movement ....... 70 

(c) Experience of Impeded Movement : Sense of Resistance . 72 
Active Sense : Touching, Seeing, etc. ....... 73 

(b) Elements of Feeling. 

Primitive Affective Phenomena ........ 75 

(c) Active Elements : Primitive Movements. 

Primitive Conative Phenomena ........ 76 

(d) Primitive Complex Arrangements. 

Primitive Conjunctions of Elements : Instinctive dispositions . . 76 

The Range of Instinct in Man ........ 77 

Origin of Instinct : Heredity ........ 78 

Study of Primitive Elements and Education 79 

References for Reading ........ 80 

CHAPTER V. 
Mental Elaboration : Attention. 

Psychical Elaboration 81 

Attention as a Factor in Elaboration 81 

Grades of Consciousness : the Sub-Conscious 82 

Unconscious Psychical Processes 82 

General Function of Attention 83 



viii OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

PAGE 

Definition of Attention 84 

Positive and Negative Aspect of Attention 85 

Nervous Process in Attention ........ 86 

Attention as Adjustment : Expectant Attention 88 

Fixation and Movement of Attention 90 

Analytical and Synthetical Attention : Area of Attention . . -93 
Determinants of Attention : Interest ....... 94 

Transition to Voluntary Attention ....... 97 

Effects of Attention 98 

Training of the Attention ......... 99 

References for Reading ........ 101 

CHAPTER VI. 

Process of Elaboration (Continued) : Differentiation and 
Integration. 

Factors in Mental Elaboration „ 102 

(a) Process of Differentiation ....... 103 

Differentiation and Discrimination ...... 105 

Law of Change or Relativity 105 

(b) Process of Assimilation : Relation of Likeness . . . 106 
Relation of Differentiation to Assimilation ..... 109 

(c) Process of Association . . . . . . . .110 

Retentiveness and Reproduction . . . . . . .110 

Physiological Basis of Reproduction ...... 113 

Unity of Elaborative Process . . . . . . . .114 

Course of Development. 

Stages of Intellectual Development 117 

Development and Habit ......... 120 

Development of Feeling and Willing 121 

Mental Development as Biological Process ...... 122 

Social Environment and Development 124 

Factors in Development ......... 125 

The Development and the Training of the Mind .... 125 

References for Reading 127 



PART III. 
INTELLECTION. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Perception. 

Sensation and Perception ......... 128 

Intra-organic and Extra-organic Localisation of Sensations , . 129 
Process of Perception .......... 130 



CONTENTS. i x 

PAGE 

Definition of Perception 132 

Physiological Conditions of Perception ...... 133 

Special Channels of Perception . . . . . . . .133 

(a) Tactual Perception. 
Characteristics of Tactual Perception ....... 135 

Tactual Perception of Space . . . . . . . .136 

(a) Limb-Movement as Source of Space-Consciousness . .136 

(b) Localisation of Skin-Sensations ...... 140 

(c) Simultaneous Perception of Points : Tactual Intuition of 

Surface ........... 141 

(d) Other Modes of Space Perception : Solidity, etc. . . . 142 
Perception of Material Quality : Impenetrability .... 144 
Connexion between Ideas of Body and Space ..... 145 

Other Modes of Tactual Perception 146 

Integration of Tactual Perceptions : Intuition of Thing . . . 147 

(b) Visual Perception. 
Tactual and Visual Perception ........ 149 

Visual Perception of Space . . . . . . . . .150 

(a) Ocular Movement as Factor in Spate Consciousness . .151 

(b) Simultaneous Retinal Perception 151 

Binocular Perception of Space ........ 154 

Co-ordination of Tactual and Visual Perception 155 

Perception of (Absolute) Direction 157 

Perception of Distance ......... 157 

Perception of Real Magnitude ........ 160 

Perception of Relief and Solidity of Form 160 

Perception of Objective Movement . 162 

Growth of Visual Perception .163 

Theories of Visual Space-Consciousness . . . . . .164 

Visual Intuition of Thing 165 

Identifying Objects .......... 166 

Knowledge of Bodily Organism ........ 167 

(c) Auditory Perception. 
Space-Perception : 

(a) Genesis of Aural Space-Consciousness 169 

(b) Co-ordination of Aural and Extra-aural Factors . . . 170 
Auditory Perception of Time ........ 171 

Musical Perception . . . . . . . . . .172 

Development of Perceptual Process . . . . . . . 173 

The Regulation of Perception : The Art of Observation . . .175 
Training in Sense-Observation . . . . . . . . 177 

Psychology and Philosophy of Perception . . . . . .178 

References for Reading . . . . . . . . 179 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Reproductive Imagination : Memory. 



Transition from Presentation to Representation : The Temporary 

Image ........... 180 

The Revival of Percepts ......... 181 

Process of Revival . . . . • • • ■ • .182 

Differentiae of Images and Percepts 182 

Coalescence of Image and Percept : Recogni ion of Objects . . 183 

Reaction of Image on Percept 184 

Distinctness of Images I &5 

General Conditions of the Retention and Reproduction of Percepts . 187 

(a) Depth of Impression . 

(1) Intensity, etc., of Sensation 

(2) Attention as Condition of Retention 

(3) Repetition as Condition of Retention 

(b) Laws of Suggestion : Association . 

Laws of Suggestion : Contiguity. 
Reproduction as Effect of Suggestion .... 
Association of Ideas by Contiguity : Statement of Law 
Conditions of Contiguous Integration : 

(a) Proximity in Time .... 

(b) Combining Movement of Attention . 

(c) Repetition and Association 
Derivative Laws of Associational Revival . 
Experimental Investigations into Association 
Trains of Representations .... 
Composite Trains : Motor Successions 
Verbal Integrations ..... 

(a) The Word-Complex 

(b) Ideo-Verbal Integration . 

(c) Ideo-Verbal Series .... 
Memory and Expectation .... 

Representation of Time 
Perception and Idea of Time 
Consciousness of Succession 
Representation of Past and Future 
Representation of Duration 
The Temporal Scheme 



Remembering Events . 

Othe 
Suggestion of Similars . 
Nature of Assimilative Suggestion 
Assimilative Integration 



Forms of Suggestion. 



187 
188 
189 
190 

191 
192 

193 
194 

195 
197 
198 
198 
199 
201 
202 
202 
203 
204 



205 

2C6 

207 
209 

211 

212 



213 
214 
215 



CONTENTS. xi 

PAGE 

Relation of Suggestion by Similarity to Contiguous Suggestion . . 216 
Suggestion by Contrast . . . . . . . . .217 

Simple and Complex Suggestion ........ 219 

Divergent Suggestion . . . . . . . . . .221 

Convergent Suggestion . . . . . . . . .221 

Reproduction as a Resultant of a Sum of Tendencies .... 223 

Active Factor in Reproduction : Recollection ..... 223 

(a) Fixation of Ideas ......... 224 

(b) Control of Suggestive Forces . . . . . . .225 

Perfect and Imperfect Recollection 227 

Forgetfulness ... ........ 228 

Memory and its Varieties ......... 229 

Memory and Memories ......... 230 

Course of Development of Memoiy . . . . . . .231 

The Culture of the Memory 233 

Art of Mnemonics ......... 234 

Educational Discipline of the Memory ...... 236 

References for Reading 237 

CHAPTER IX. 

Productive Imagination. 

Reproductive and Productive Imagination 238 

Nature of Production .......... 239 

Limits to Imagination .......... 240 

Passive and Active Imagination 241 

The Process of Construction . 242 

Receptive and Creative Imagination ....... 244 

Various Directions of Construction ....... 245 

(a) Intellective Imagination ........ 245 

(b) Practical Construction : Contrivance 248 

(c) ^Esthetic Imagination ........ 249 

Relation of Imagination to Intellect 251 

Course of Development of Imagination ...... 252 

The Culture of the Imagination . . . . . . . .255 

The Educational Management of the Imagination .... 256 

References for Reading 258 

CHAPTER X. 

Processes of Thought : Conception. 

General Nature of Thinking 259 

Thought as Activity 260 

Directions of Thought-Activity 261 

(a) Analysis : Abstraction 261 

(b) Synthesis : Conscious Relating ...... 262 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Comparison. 

Discernment of Likeness and of Difference . 

General Conditions of Comparison 

(i) Objective Conditions of Comparison 
(2) Subjective Conditions of Comparison 

Discriminative and Assimilative Comparison 

Other Forms of Comparison .... 

Connexion between Comparison and Analysis 

General Thought ...... 

Thought and Language .... 

Stages of Thinking ..... 



PAGE 

, 264 

, 265 

265 

266 

267 

268 

, 268 

, 26g 

, 270 

, 271 



General Ideas. 

Nature of General Ideas . ....... 272 

Generic Image as Starting-point in Conception ..... 272 

Differentiation of Notions of Individual and Class .... 274 

The Process of Generalisation ........ 275 

Conception and Naming ......... 275 

Psychological Function of General Names ... ... 27O 

Progressive Use of Names 277 

Formation of more Abstract Notions ....... 279 

Names as Substitutes for Ideas ....... 280 



Conception as Dependent on Social Environment 
Psychology of Language : Nominalism and Conceptualism 
Conception as Synthesis ....... 

The Control of Conception : The Logical Concept 
Educational Control of Processes of Abstraction . 

References for Reading 



280 

281 

282 
284 
287 
288 



CHAPTER XL 

Processes of Thought {Continued) : Judgment and Reasoning 
(Knowledge). 

Judgment. 

The Mental Process in Judging ........ 290 

Relation of Judgment to Conception ....... 291 

Judging a Process of Mental Synthesis ...... 292 

(1) Setting forth of Relations of Difference and Likeness: Identity. 293 

(2) Setting forth of Relations of Space and Time : Substance 
and Cause .......... 295 

General Antecedents of Judgment 298 

Synthetic and Analytic Judgments ....... 299 

Judgment and Belief .......... 300 

Affirmation and Negation : Belief and Disbelief 301 

Suspension of Judgment : Doubt . . , . . . . . 302 



CONTENTS. xiii 

Reasoning. 

PAGE 

Transition from Judgment to Reasoning 303 

The Mental Process in Reasoning 304 

Implicit Reasoning .......... 306 

Practical Judgment : Tact ........ 307 

Explicit or Logical Reasoning ........ 307 

(a) Inductive Reasoning 508 

Development of Inductive Process ...... 309 

(6) Deductive Reasoning . . . . . . . .311 

Finding Applications and Finding Reasons . . . . .312 

Reasoning as Activity and as Mechanical Process .... 312 

Logical Control of Thought-Processes ....... 314 

Self- Consciousness. 

Development of Idea of Self ........ 315 

(a) The Pictorial or Bodily Self 316 

(b) The Inner or Mental Self 316 

(c) Idea of Self as Enduring : Personal Identity .... 318 
Notions of Others . . . . . . . . . 319 

Intellection as Knowledge. 
Cognition of Reality : Belief ........ 320 

Nature of Belief 321 

I. Intellectual Conditions of Belief : 

(a) Belief and Ideation ......... 322 

(0) Experience and Association ....... 323 

Verbal Suggestion .......... 324 

II. Effect of Feeling on Belief ........ 325 

III. Belief and Activity 326 

Logical Control of Belief : Knowledge 327 

Knowledge as Social Product : The Common Mind .... 328 

Authority and Individuality in Belief ....... 330 

Belief and Knowledge : Philosophy of Cognition .... 331 

Training of the Powers of Judgment and Reasoning .... 333 

References for Reading ........ 334 



PART IV. 
THE FEELINGS. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Feeling : Simple Feelings. 

The Feelings and their Importance . . . . . . 336 

Definition of Feeling .......... 337 

Feeling and Presentation ......... 338 



XIV 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Conditions of Pleasure and Pain. 



Law of Stimulation ....... 

Impulse and its Gratification : Pains of Want 

Quiet Pleasures : Repose ...... 

Pleasure and Pain and Form of Stimulus 

Change as Condition of Feeling : Prolonged Stimulation 

Effects of Change 

Negative Pleasures and Pains ..... 
Decay of Feeling : Habit of Accommodation 
Counteractives of Decay : Habit and Feeling 
Juxtaposition of Excitations : Harmony and Conflict . 

Varieties of Feeling, (a) Sense-Feelings. 
How Feelings are to be Distinguished 
Characters of Sense-Feelings ..... 
Complexity and Alteration of Sense-Feelings 

References for Reading ..... 



TAGE 

• 340 

• 341 

• 343 

• 343 

• 344 
■ 346 

• 348 

• 350 

• 35i 

• 352 



357 
358 
360 
361 



CHAPTER XIII. 

(b) Complex Feelings : Emotions. 
Structure of Emotion .......... 362 

Rise and Fall of Emotion : Emotional Persistence .... 363 

Influence of Emotion on the Thoughts ...... 364 

Development of Emotion. 
The Instinctive Factor : Expression ....... 365 

Differences of Emotive Reaction : Pleasurable and Painful Emotion . 366 
Specialised Manifestations of Emotion ...... 367 

Inherited Emotive Associations ........ 368 

Effect of Experience : Modification of Instinctive Reactions . . 369 
Growth of the Presentative Factor in Emotion : Ideal Feeling . . 370 
How Feeling is Revived : Associated Feeling ..... 371 

Differentiation of Emotion : Refinement ...... 374 

Varieties of Emotion. 
Classification of Emotive States : Order of Development . . -374 
Three Orders of Emotion . 376 

(1) Characteristics of Joy and Grief 378 

(2) Instinctive Emotions : Egoistic and Social Feelings . -379 

Approbation and Self-Feeling ...... 380 

(3) Representative Emotion : Sympathy 381 

(4) The Abstract Sentiments 384 

(a) The Intellectual and Logical Feelings .... 385 

(b) The Esthetic Sentiment 388 

(e) The Moral Sentiment . 39 2 



CONTENTS. xv 

PAGE 

The Culture of the Feelings 395 

The Educational Control of the Feelings 399 

References for Reading . 402 



PART V. 
CONATION OR VOLITION. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Voluntary Movement. 
Definition of Conative Phenomena ....... 403 

Conation in its Relation to Feeling and Cognition .... 404 

Roots of Voluntary Action : Instinct and Experience .... 405 

Primitive Movements : 

(a) Movements not Psychically Initiated : Random Automatic 

Movements 406 

(3) Sensori-Motor Movements : Conscious Reflexes . . . 407 
(c) Instinctive Movements ........ 409 

Genesis of Voluntary Movement . . . . . . . .411 

The Factors of Voluntary Action ....... 414 

Desire. 

The Analysis of Desire . . . . . . . . • 415 

Desire and Aversion ..... .... 418 

Conditions of the Strength of Desire ....... 419 

Desire and Motive .......... 420 

Motor Ideas as Constituents in Volition ...... 421 

Initiation and Actual Performance ....... 422 

Variations in Type of Voluntary Movement 423 

Development of Voluntary Movement : Growth in Precision . . 425 

Complication of Movement : Construction 426 

Imitative Movement 4 2 7 

Movement and Verbal Suggestion : The Word of Command . . 429 
Internal Origination of Movement ....... 430 

Voluntary Movement and Consciousness of Power . . . . 431 

Habit. 
General Nature of Habit 432 

Plabit and Routine 435 

Degrees of Habitual Co-ordination ....... 435 

Habit and Plasticity of Movement 437 

Habit and Volition • -438 

The Training of the Will through the Exercise of the Muscular 

Organs 43 s 

References for Reading 44° 



xvi OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

CHAPTER XV. 
Complex Action : Conduct. 

PAGE 

Simple and Complex Action 441 

Motive-Ideas 443 

Unification of Action : Permanent Ends . . . . . . 444 

Desiring Means as Ends ......... 445 

Non-Personal Ends : Desire and Pleasure ...... 446 

Complex Action ........... 447 

(a) Co-operation of Impulses ....... 447 

(6) Opposition of Impulses ........ 448 

Arrest of Action : Inhibition ........ 448 

Action Arrested by Doubt 449 

Recoil of Desire : Deterrents from Action 450 

Rivalry of Impulses . . . . . . . . . . 451 

Passive Resolution of Conflict ........ 452 

Regulated Conflict : Deliberation ....... 452 

Choice of Decision .......... 454 

Resolution: Firmness of Will ........ 457 

Process of Self-Control ......... 459 

(a) Control of Action ......... 460 

(6) Control of Feelings ......... 462 

(c) Control of the Thoughts ........ 464 

Connexion between Control of Thought, Feeling and Action . 465 
Volitional Control of Belief ........ 467 

Limits of Control : Measurement of Volitional Force . . . . 468 

Habit and Conduct : Deliberation as Habitual ..... 470 

Moral Habitudes 470 

Volition and Character ......... 471 

(a) Character as Organised Habit 472 

(Z>) Character as Conscious Reflection ...... 473 

Relation of Higher to Lower Volition ....... 474 

Volitional Effort : Consciousness of Power . . . . . . 475 

Consciousness of Freedom : Free-Will 478 

Psychology and Philosophy of Free-Will ...... 479 

Education of the Will 482 

Special Problems of Moral Education 483 

References for Reading 485 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Concrete Mental Development : Individuality. 
Unity of Mental Development ........ 486 

(a) Interactions of Intellect and Feeling : Interests . . . 4S6 
(3) Interactions of Intellect and Feeling with Conation . .487 



CONTENTS. xvii 

PAGE 

Typical and Individual Development 488 

Varieties of Mind 489 

Scientific View of Individuality : Measurement of Psychical Capacity . 490 
Causes of Individual Variation ........ 493 

Extreme Variations : 

(a) Variations of Height : Genius ...... 494 

(b) Extreme of Normal Pattern : Eccentricity of Character . . 496 

The Normal and the Abnormal Mind 496 

Abnormal Tendencies in Normal Life ...... 497 

Dreams as Abnormal Phenomena ....... 499 

Artificial Sleep : the Hypnotic State 499 

Transition to Pathological Psychoses 501 

Education and Individuality 503 

References for Reading ........ 504 

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTE. 
Psychology and Philosophy of Mind : Mind and Body . . . 505 
Index 511 



PART I. 
INTRODUCTORY. 



CHAPTER I. 

SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Definition of Psychology. The term Psychology 
(from \pvxq, soul, and Ao'yos, reasoned account) marks off 
that department of scientific knowledge which has Mind 
for its subject-matter. It follows that in order to have a 
clear apprehension of the subject we must set out with a 
provisional definition of the word mind. 

We are all accustomed to talk about minds. We attrib- 
ute a mind to ourselves, to other persons, and even to many 
of the lower animals. It is these minds, or rather their 
common elements, processes or phases, which form the 
subject-matter of psychology. More particularly it is the 
higher type of mind as it appears in man that has to be 
considered by the psychologist. 

We distinguish between a mind as a unity, the / that 
thinks, desires, and so forth, and its particular and chang- 
ing phenomena or states, as thoughts, desires. What the 
mind is in itself as a substance is a question that lies out- 
side psychology, and belongs to that province of knowledge 
known as philosophy or metaphysic. As a science psy- 
chology is concerned only with the particular manifesta- 
tions or phenomena of mind, with the psychical processes 
or ' psychoses ' (as they are now called) which are accessi- 
ble to observation. 
i 



2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The question as to what mind is in itself or as a substance is a meta- 
physical one, and the solution of it does not seem necessary to psychology, 
and can best be taken up after the study of the phenomena of mind. No 
doubt our common ways of speaking about mental processes, e.g., ' I think,' 
' my mind recalls,' suggest the idea of a mental unity which holds together 
and combines the several states which we call psychical phenomena. And 
it may be said that the language of scientific psychology, such as ' state of 
mind,' ' the mind's activity,' necessarily implies this idea. Yet the exami- 
nation of the meaning of this idea does not seem necessary to a scientific 
treatment of the phenomena of mind. 

How, it may be asked, are we to mark off these psychi- 
cal phenomena or states from other facts ? We cannot, it 
is evident, define such phenomena by resolving them into 
something simpler ; for they have nothing in common be- 
yond the fact of being mental states. Hence we can only 
use some equivalent phrase, as when we say that a mental 
phenomenon is an element or ingredient of our conscious 
life or conscious experience, or a state of our consciousness. 
Or again we may enumerate the chief phases or varieties of 
manifestation of mind and define it as that which thinks or 
knows, feels pleasure and pain, and wills.* 

Finally, we may set mind in antithesis to what is not 
mind. Mind is non-material, i. <?., wanting in the properties 
of material things, as weight, and, further, has no exist- 
ence in space as material bodies have. We cannot weigh a 
thought or a feeling, and one feeling does not lie outside 
another in space : these phenomena occur in time only. 
Mind is thus marked off as the region of the 'unextended.' 
It is sometimes spoken of as the internal smaller world 
(microcosm) in contradistinction to the external and larger 
world (macrocosm) ; but this language, which is highly 
figurative, does not mean that mind is a region of space 
enclosed by what we call the " external " world. f 

* It is to be noted that popular language is apt to restrict the term mind 
to the intellectual aspect, knowing or intelligence. In popular every-day 
psychology other terms as ' heart,' ' character,' ' soul,' are applied to other 
aspects. 

f The meaning of the antithesis, external and internal, will be best con- 
sidered when we take up the subject of sense-perception. 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 3 

While it is important thus to set mind in sharp contrast 
to material things, it is hardly less important to keep in 
view the close connexion between the two. What we call 
a human being is made up of a bodily organism and a mind. 
Our personality or ' self ' is a mind connected with or em- 
bodied in a material framework. More particularly our 
mental processes are connected with the actions of that 
group of physiological organs known as the nervous sys- 
tem. It is fairly certain that the most abstract thought is 
accompanied by some mode of activity in the brain-centres. 
Hence while we must be careful not to confuse the mental 
and the material, the psychical and the physical, as though 
they were of the same kind (homogeneous), we cannot 
wholly exclude the latter from view in dealing with mind. 
Psychology may thus be said to have as its aim the sci- 
entific study first of psychical phenomena themselves, and sec- 
ondly, as subsidiary and complementary to this, of the connex- 
ions of these with physical, and more particularly nervous, 
operations. 

How We Come to Know Mind : (a) Subjective 
Observation. There are two distinct avenues by which 
we acquire knowledge of mind. The first is the direct, in- 
ternal, or subjective way.* In following this we direct 
attention to a process in our own mind at the time of its 
occurrence, or immediately afterwards. All of us have some 
power of turning the attention inwards on the successive 
movements or changes of our mental life. Thus we can 
attend to our emotions of joy and sorrow, love and hate, to 
our desires and motives, and so on, with a view to observe 
their nature, composition, the manner in which they are 
affected by the circumstances of the moment, and so forth ; 
and this internal observation of mind can be indefinitely 

* 'Subject' stands in a relation of opposition to 'object.' The former 
refers to the conscious mind which knows something, or is affected (pleas- 
urably or painfully) by a thing ; the latter marks off that which is known 
or which affects the mind in a certain way. The house I see, the flower I 
admire, are objects to me ; while I am the subject which sees and admires 
these objects. 



4 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

improved by exercise, and rendered exact and scientific. 
This scientific form of internal observation is known as 
Introspection ('looking within'). 

(b) External or Objective Study of Mind. In the 
second place we may study mental phenomena not only in 
our own individual mind but as they present themselves ex- 
ternally in others. This is the indirect, external, or object- 
ive way of studying mental phenomena. We all employ 
this way when we note the manifestations of others' feel- 
ings in looks and gestures ; arrive at a knowledge of their 
thoughts by their speech, or observe their inclinations and 
motives by noting their actions ; and scientific knowledge 
of mind is partly gained by widening and rendering more 
exact this exterior observation. 

Such objective observation embraces not only the men- 
tal phenomena of the individuals who are personally known 
to us, old and young, but those of others of whom we hear 
or read, especially of great minds and of all exceptional va- 
rieties. Also it includes the study of the collective mind, 
more particularly as it expresses itself in primitive and sim- 
ple societies, in early forms of language, belief, and so 
forth. It includes too a comparative study of mind, or the 
observation of points of agreement and difference among 
its various manifestations in different races, and even in 
different grades of animal life. The study of the simpler 
phases of mind in the child, in backward and uncivilised 
races, and (so far as this is possible) in the lower animals, 
is especially valuable for understanding the growth of the 
mature or fully-developed human mind. 

Finally, this objective observation of mind when carried 
out fully, includes the study of mental phenomena in con- 
nexion with their physiological conditions ; viz., nervous 
processes. All external observation of mental phenomena 
takes place by noting some of their bodily accompaniments, 
such as facial expression, and the actions of speech. Here, 
however, we regard the bodily movement as the outcome 
or manifestation of the inner mental state. In addition to 
this, psychology considers the actions of the nervous sys- 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



5 



tem as conditioning* mental activity, that is, as underlying 
and determining it in various ways. 

Combination of Internal and External Observa- 
tion. Scientific knowledge is characterised by certainty, 
exactness, and generality. We must observe carefully so 
as to make sure of our facts, and to note precisely what is 
present. And we must go on from a knowledge of the par- 
ticular to a knowledge of the general. From this we may 
easily see that neither the internal nor the external source 
of information is sufficient without the other for giving us a 
science of mind. To begin with, since we have no direct or 
immediate knowledge of any mental state, save as it pre- 
sents itself in our own individual mind, some amount of 
introspection is the first condition of all certain and accu- 
rate knowledge of mind. To try to discover mental phe- 
nomena and their laws merely by watching the outward 
manifestation of others' thoughts, feelings and volitions, 
would plainly be futile. For these external manifestations 
are in themselves as empty of meaning as words in an 
unknown tongue, and only receive their meaning by a ref- 
erence to what we ourselves have thought and felt. On 
the other hand, an exclusive attention to the contents of 
our individual mind would never give us a general knowl- 
edge of mind. In order to eliminate the effects of indi- 
viduality we must at every step compare our own modes of 
thinking and feeling with those of other minds; and the 
wider the area included in our comparison, the sounder are 
our generalisations likely to be. 

Each of these ways of studying mind has its char- 
acteristic difficulties. To attend closely to the events of 
our mental life presupposes a certain power of ' abstrac- 
tion.' It requires at first a considerable effort to withdraw 
the attention from the more palpable and striking impres- 
sions of sense which constitute the phenomena of the exter- 

* A condition is any circumstance necessary to the production of a phe- 
nomenon. All the conditions of a phenomenon taken together constitute 
its cause. To condition is thus to have a part in causing or producing a 
result. 



6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

nal world, and to keep it fixed on such shadowy, ever-shift- 
ing phenomena as the ideas, the sentiments of our inner 
world. Even in the case of the trained psychologist, the 
work is always attended with peculiar difficulties. 

On the other hand, there is a characteristic danger in 
reading the minds of others which arises from an excessive 
propensity to project our own modes of thinking and feel- 
ing into them. This danger increases with the remoteness 
of the mind we are observing from our own. To appre- 
hend, for example, the sentiments and convictions of an 
ancient Roman, of a Hindoo, or of an uncivilised African, 
is a very delicate operation. It implies close attention to 
the differences as well as the similarities of external mani- 
festation, also an effort of imagination by which, though 
starting from some remembered experiences of our own, 
we feel our way into a new set of circumstances, new expe- 
riences, and a new set of mental habits. Children, again, 
owing to their remoteness from adults, are proverbially liable 
to be misunderstood ; and, lastly, the mental life of the lower 
animals, differing still more widely from our own, is much 
less susceptible of certain and accurate interpretation.* 

General Knowledge of Mind. Every science con- 
sists of generalised knowledge, or knowledge thrown into 
the form of general propositions ; and mental science seeks 
to generalise its own department of knowledge. This it 
does, in the first place, by arranging the observed phenom- 
ena of mind under certain heads. That is to say, it classi- 
fies the wide variety of mental states according to their re- 
semblances. In so doing it overlooks the points of differ- 
ence, both between one mind and another, and between the 
several states of one and the same mind, and fastens atten- 
tion on points of similarity, or common features. 

In close connection with this classification of mental 
states, mental science aims at establishing general truths 
or laws of mind. Since thoughts, feelings, and other phe- 
nomena of mind are processes or events in time, psycho- 

* On the errors incident to Introspection and the interpretation of other 
minds, see my work on Illusions, chaps, viii and ix. 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. y 

logical laws have to do in a special manner with the relations 
of sequence and of causal dependence among mental states, 
that is to say, the ultimate object of our science is to deter- 
mine the conditions on which mental phenomena depend. 

Now a little attention to the subject will show that our 
mental states are related in the way of dependence not only 
to other states immediately preceding, but to remotely ante- 
cedent phenomena. For example, the quick response of a 
soldier to a command depends on the formation of a habit, 
which process may have been going on for many years. In 
this way the consideration of relations of dependence among 
mental states naturally leads on to the view of mind as a 
process of growth or development. The ultimate problem 
of psychology is, indeed, to explain all the higher and more 
complex mental states as products of development. Hence 
the most important class of laws for the psychologist are 
the laws of mental development. 

Psychological Method : Analysis. In thus seeking 
to classify its phenomena, discover their general laws, and 
by help of these laws to account for its phenomena, psy- 
chology is following the same logical method as the other 
sciences. It is by the operations of Classification and In- 
duction, supplemented by Deduction, that the physical sci- 
ences have constituted themselves into organic bodies of 
knowledge. 

It has been pointed out that in psychology we have to 
set out with the states of our own mind, as the phenomena 
most accessible to observation. Now these processes are 
evidently highly complex. It follows that psychological 
investigation proceeds by a resolution of the complex phe- 
nomena of mind into simple ingredients or constituent fac- 
tors. This is known as Psychological Analysis. To ana- 
lyse a mental product is to take it apart in our thoughts, 
viewing by separate acts of attention its several component 
factors, elements or aspects.* Thus in the case of a com- 

* This logical analysis or separation in thought must be carefully dis- 
tinguished from that actual separation of parts which takes place in chemi- 
cal analysis. 



8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

plex* motive, such as the pursuit of wealth, we may distin- 
guish its several ingredients, as love of material comfort, 
love of display, and enjoyment of power. It is by such 
mental or ideal separation of the complexes of our mental 
experience that we must seek to find our way back to the 
earlier and simpler forms of mental life. Thus by analysis 
we can resolve a feeling of attachment to a person or a 
place into a growth out of many past pleasurable experi- 
ences. This analytical resolution of psychical phenomena 
into their constituent factors is beset with peculiar difficul- 
ties which constitute one of the principal obstacles to intro- 
spective observation. 

This work of psychological analysis leads on to classifi- 
cation and induction. It is by resolving our concrete men- 
tal experiences into their constituent elements that we are 
able to classify them under particular heads or aspects. 
Thus, it is by specially considering the element or phase of 
pleasurable feeling in the experience of surmounting a diffi- 
culty that we are in a position to class it with other vari- 
eties of pleasurable feeling. In like manner it is by analys- 
ing the complex and tangled processes of our mental life 
that we find our way inductively to those uniform modes 
of combination or production which we formulate in our 
general laws. 

It is important to add that this introspective analysis of 
our complex mental states and detection of their laws is 
aided by the objective observation of other and simpler 
forms of mind. Unless we could observe in children and 
the lower animals the simpler forms of our mental pro- 
cesses, we should be unable to trace back the complexities 
of adult consciousness to their constituent elements, and 
even with this help, we can only carry such analytical simpli- 
fication of psychical phenomena to a certain degree of com- 
pleteness. 

Psychological Synthesis — The Genetic Method. 
Having thus by analysis and the closely connected process 
of induction reached the simplest attainable forms of our 
mental life and certain laws of combination, we supplement 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 9 

analytical inquiry by a synthetic reconstruction of the pro- 
cess of mental formation or development. That is to say, 
we attempt to deduce the higher and later forms of the 
mental life from the earlier. The systematic carrying out of 
this method of tracing out the process of psychical for- 
mation is known as the Genetic method. We employ this 
method when, starting with the sensations of touch, sight, 
and so forth, we trace out the growth or formation of our 
every-day perceptions and ideas of external objects. 

Experiment in Psychology. It has been commonly 
assumed that psychology is a science of pure observation, 
and cannot share in the advantages of experiment, or that 
active control of the phenomena to be studied which has so 
greatly promoted the advance of the experimental sciences. 
Recently, however, experiment has been introduced into 
certain departments of psychological inquiry. Such ex- 
periments may be carried out introspectively upon one's 
own mind, as in running one's eye down a column of 
names, and noting carefully the associated idea which is 
first called up in each case. The more important psycho- 
logical experiments, however, have been carried out by 
means of external control, as when a person presents a 
number of words in order and asks the subject of the ex- 
periment to record the suggestion first occurring. These 
experiments have already proved of real service in help- 
ing us to determine more precisely the nature of our men- 
tal processes, and the way in which the several constituents 
are related one to another. 

The Psychical in its Connexion with the Physi- 
cal : Physiological Psychology. Though psychology 
is primarily concerned only with the psychical, it must, in 
order to give an account of mental states in their concrete 
completeness with all their determining conditions, take 
note of the related physical processes. More particularly 
the psychologist has to view mental processes as accom- 
panied and conditioned by those processes in the bodily 
organism which constitute the functional actions of the 
nervous system. To determine these relations is the spe- 



I0 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

cial purpose of what is now known as Physiological Psy- 
chology. This department of inquiry, as its name suggests, 
involves at once a careful physiological study of nervous 
processes, and also an equally careful psychological obser- 
vation and analysis of the accompanying mental processes. 
This department of Physiological Psychology has been par- 
ticularly successful in elucidating the more elementary 
processes of mind, sensation, and conscious movement. 

It is through a careful and exact study of the correla- 
tions of psychical process and nervous action that the range 
of experiment in psychology has mainly been enlarged. 
Indeed, the possibility of applying the experimental test to 
psychical phenomena is put forward as one of the great 
advantages of this conjoint or concurrent study of the 
psychical and the physical. The first direction of this ex- 
perimental inquiry was into the relations of qua?itity between 
the elementary phenomena of sensation and the connected 
nervous processes. Thus it was asked how much light- 
stimulus must act on the eye before a sensation of light is 
produced. This line of inquiry is sometimes specially 
marked off as 'Psycho-physics.'* 

Mind and its Environment : Social Conditions. 
The activity of the nervous system is related to the events 
taking place in the environment of the organism in our 
common external world. It is by the action of exter- 
nal forces or stimuli (light, sound, etc.) that the organs of 
the system are first excited to their functional activity. 
On the other hand, the outcome of this functional activity 
is a reaction of the organism on its environment in the 
shape of a muscular action or movement, which serves to 
modify external arrangements in some way, or at least its 
own relations to the environment, e.g., in all actions tend- 
ing to self-preservation. Hence the psychologist, in in- 

* Fechner used the terms psycho-physic, psycho-physical, with reference 
to the relation of the psychical element, sensation, to the external physical 
agent or ' stimulus,' e. g., light ; but of late the term psycho-physical has 
come to refer to the correlation of the psychical phenomenon with the 
nervous process. 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. n 

eluding nervous conditions in his view of mind, is neces- 
sarily led on to a consideration of the relations of the organ- 
ism to the environment. Thus he has to make reference to 
the stimuli (light, etc.) acting on the organs of sense. 

Among these relations of the organism to its surround- 
ings there is one group which requires special recognition 
in any complete attempt to trace the processes of forma- 
tion going on in the individual mind. These relations are 
commonly known as those of the individual to the com- 
munity or the social environment. It is true the action of 
the family, and of the wider community, on the individual, 
and the reciprocal action of the individual on this, take place 
through the same media, viz., impressions of the senses, mus- 
cular actions, through which he is brought into relation to 
natural objects ; yet the interaction in the case of the social 
environment is of a peculiar kind. It is marked off as moral 
influence, and works through the agencies which bind man 
to man, such as imitation, sympathy, and which constitute 
what we call sociality. 

Unlike the reference to physiological conditions, the reference to soci- 
ological becomes more important as we advance from the elementary parts 
of our mental life to its complex forms. More particularly it is in dealing 
with the higher processes of thought, conditioned by our common language, 
as well as the more complex forms of feeling and action (<?. g., aesthetic and 
moral sentiments, right conduct), that the necessity of reference to the so- 
cial surroundings becomes most distinct. 

Relation of Psychology to Other Sciences. Psy- 
chology may, in the first place, be classed along with the 
special sciences. Like chemistry or physiology, it studies 
a particular group of phenomena and the laws of these. Its 
place among the special sciences is determined by the cir- 
cumstance that it studies a certain group of properties 
found in a portion of living things. As we have seen, it 
stands in a peculiar relation to physiology. We may 
arrange the sciences in a series, beginning with the most 
abstract, or those which deal with the most universal 
properties of things, and ending with the most concrete, or 
those which treat of the most special or circumscribed 



I2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

group of properties. We thus have an order as follows : 
Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biology (Physiology, 
etc.,), Psychology, and Sociology. In this arrangement each 
group of things studied has the properties of the previous 
groups, and special additional properties. Thus chemical 
bodies have quantity, mechanical properties, and special 
chemical properties besides. According to this arrange- 
ment, psychology marks the introduction of those new and 
highly distinctive properties which constitute mind or con- 
scious activity. 

Looked at from another point of view, however, psy- 
chology is not to be classed with the special sciences, but 
occupies a unique place outside and above these. All 
science is knowledge, and all knowledge implies a mind or 
minds to know. Hence every special science on its sub- 
jective or ' mind ' side, i.e., as knowledge for my own or some- 
body else's mind, becomes a part of the subject-matter of 
psychology. 

Viewed on this side, psychology comes into close con- 
nexion with a department of thought very different from 
that of the special senses, viz., Philosophy, or Theory of 
Knowledge, which deals with the nature of knowledge in 
general. Yet there is a difference between the two. Psy- 
chology confines itself to the study of knowledge on its 
subjective side as a process of cognition going on in minds. 
It does not inquire into the objective truth or validity of 
the cognition. This, however, is just what Philosophy has 
to take up and determine. 

Psychology and Practical Science. Psychology is 
a theoretic or speculative as distinguished from a practical 
science or art. A theoretic science concerns itself about 
things as they are, how they actually happen or come to 
pass ; a practical science or art concerns itself with things as 
they ought to be, or as we wish them to be. It defines 
the end of some department of practice, and supplies us 
with rules for the attainment of this end. Practical science, 
though thus contrasted with theoretic, is really very closely 
connected with it. In order to be sure of gaining any end, 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



13 



we must have full and exact knowledge of the agencies we 
employ. Thus a sculptor must know something about the 
properties of clay and marble, a physician something about 
the functions of the body, and so on. 

Viewed in this way, psychology forms the basis of a 
number of practical sciences. All the practical disciplines, 
indeed, which aim at guiding or influencing thoughts, feel- 
ings, or actions, have their footing in psychology. These 
relations of psychology to practical science may be roughly 
set forth as follows : — 

(A) Psychology constitutes, in the first place, the imme- 
diate basis of those regulative sciences which determine 
the ends of mental activity, and supply rules or laws 
for the proper regulation of this activity with a view to 
these ends. It thus underlies the whole comprehensive art 
of living or of self-culture. 

As we shall see presently, there are three main va- 
rieties of mental activity, or mental function, viz., Cog- 
nition, Feeling, and Volition. The due regulation of each 
of these so as to bring it to its most perfect form of 
realisation falls to a special regulative science. Thus we 
have : — 

(1) Logic, or the regulation of thought or the reasoning 

processes, with a view to the realisation of the end 
of truth. 

(2) ^Esthetics, or the regulation of the feelings, with 

a view to the appreciation and realisation of 
beauty. 

(3) Ethics, or the regulation of voluntary action or con- 

duct, with a view to the realisation of the end of 
virtue, or the morally good. 

(B) In the second place, psychology forms the ground- 
work of those practical sciences or arts which aim at influ- 
encing the minds of others in various ways. Of these the 
most comprehensive and important is Education, inasmuch 
as it aims at acting upon, developing, and controlling the 
mind as a whole (Intellectual, ^Esthetic, and Moral Educa- 
tion). 



14 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



(C) Lastly, psychology supplies principles to a num- 
ber of practical sciences or arts which aim at more spe- 
cial and circumscribed effects. Thus it underlies the whole 
art of politics, or the art of governing men in masses 
or communities, and in close connexion with this the art 
of rhetoric or persuasion through oratory. In like man- 
ner it forms the theoretic base of the several Fine Arts, 
including Literature, each of which aims at producing a 
certain variety of that mental effect which we call aesthetic 
delight. 

Relation of Psychology to Education. We see at once from this 
rough scheme the peculiarly close connexion between Psychology and 
Education. This last is the only practical science which is engaged in 
guiding or controlling the whole of mind. The educator of the young 
may be said to unite in himself the functions of logician, art critic, moral- 
ist, and legislator. He has to direct thought, to cultivate feeling, and to 
control action. 

We may still further see the closeness of this connexion by glancing at 
the relation of Education to other sciences. As a practical science which 
aims at an end, Education grounds itself on Ethics, the science which 
seeks to determine the ultimate ends of all action, the innermost nature of 
what we call the good or the desirable. But this implies a limited connex- 
ion only. When once the end is settled, Education asks no further aid 
from Ethics. Again, as a practical science greatly concerned with the 
training of the thinking or reasoning powers, Education derives consider- 
able aid from Logic. This branch of discipline by supplying rules for 
clear thinking and sound reasoning, and by suggesting the best methods 
of expounding knowledge, is a matter of great practical value to the 
teacher. The relation of Education to Psychology is, however, a closer 
and more pervading relation. Being a theoretic as distinguished from a 
practical science, psychology does not, it is true, directly supply rules for 
regulating mental processes. But it gives us an account of the actual 
workings of mind in its connexion with body, and of the laws which are 
uniformly fulfilled in these processes. More particularly it explains the 
normal growth or typical history of a mind, the processes by which the 
latest and most valuable products, thought, emotion, will, are developed 
out of the earlier instinctive endowments. And since Education in all its 
branches is engaged in producing some special kind of mental result {e.g., 
accurate knowledge, right feeling), it needs continually to revert to psy- 
chological principles in order to ascertain how the several agencies em- 
ployed bear upon this desired result. 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 15 



REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the scope and method of psychology, the following may be con- 
sulted : Hamilton, Lectures on Metaphysics, i. lects. vii. and viii. ; G. H. 
Lewes, The Study of Psychology, chaps, i.-iii. ; Ward, article "Psychology," 
Encyclopedia Brit., pp. 37, 38. On the relation of Psychology to Educa- 
tion, see Prof. Bain, Education as a Science, chap. i. ; Herbart, Brief e ilbet 
die Anzvendung der Psychologie auf die Pddagogik ; and Waitz, A llgemeine 
Pddagogik (Einleitung, § 1). 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 

Connexion of Mind with Body. Since mental phe- 
nomena have as their concomitants in time and their deter- 
mining conditions certain actions of the bodily organism, 
it seems desirable to take a brief survey of these before 
entering upon a detailed examination of the psychical pro- 
cesses themselves. In doing this, however, we shall try to 
keep to our psychological point of view, and regard the ma- 
terial processes involved merely under their aspect of con- 
ditioning factors of psychical events. Hence we shall not 
attempt any detailed description of the organic structures, 
which could not indeed be carried out in a psychological 
work, and can be easily obtained in physiological text- 
books.* 

Common observation tells us that our mental life, its 
perceptions of objects, its feelings, its actions, stand in an 
intimate relation to our bodily life. Yet the first ideas of 
this connexion were vague, and when attempting to be defi- 
nite (e. g., as in referring the seat of the soul to the heart), 
inexact. It is the discoveries of modern science which have 
first enabled us to define the mode of the connexion with 
something like precision. By help of these we are now able 
to link on psychical processes with the functional activities 
of a special group of organs, viz., the Nervous System, and 

* The English student may now obtain a sufficiently complete descrip- 
tive account of the nervous system, either in an elementary work on physi- 
ology, as Professor Huxley's excellent Elementary Lessons, or in a work on 
physiological psychology, e. g., Professor Ladd's Elements, or the smaller 
Outlines. 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



17 



more particularly of certain central portions of these known 
as the Brain. 

Structure of Nervous System : Nerves and Nerve- 
Centres. The nervous system is, so far as we are con- 
cerned with it here, a set of continuous structures built up 
of a highly organised matter. It is divisible into two por- 
tions : (a) a group of compact masses known 
as nerve-centres, lying within the bony cover- : 
ing of the skull and vertebral column, and (t>) * 
thread-like ramifications running from these ^ 
nerve-centres to outlying or peripheral parts 
of the body and known as nerves. 

The nerves are found to consist of bundles 
of minute white fibres. The more important Fig. i.— Nerve- 
class of these fibres have as their essential ele- fibre ( ma & m - 

ii 1 / • i> 1 \ mi • • fied): i, merri- 

ment a central band (axis-cylinder). This is branous tube 

enclosed in two sheaths which probably serve (sheath of 

to insulate the fibre (see Fig. 1). Schwann) ; 2, 

. medullary 

The nerves fall into two classes, which, s heath ; 3, 
though they appear to have the same struct- axis-cylinder. 
ure, are marked off one from another by 
their mode of attachment at the periphery and , at the 
centre, and as a consequence of this subserve distinct 
functions. Of these the first class are connected at their 
peripheral termination with some sensitive structure, as 
the skin, the mucous membrane of the stomach, and so 
forth. They are put into a state of activity at their periph- 
eral end by a process of stimulation, and have as their 
function to convey nervous action to the centre. Hence 
they are called afferent or in - carrying and also sensory 
nerves. 

The more important of these afferent nerves for the 
psychologist are the nerves of special sense which connect 
the peripheral organs of sense, the skin, the retina, and so 
forth, with the nerve-centres. The fibres of these nerves 
tend to separate towards the peripheral termination, and 
each fibre has its own terminal appendage, the several ter- 
minal appendages making together a sort of mosaic work. 
2 



!8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

These appendages, which differ greatly in the case of the 
different organs, constitute the proper "end-organ " of the 
sense. It is these, as we shall see, that are acted upon by 
the outer stimulus (as mechanical pressure, light) which ex- 
cites the organ to activity. 

The second class are (for the most part) attached periph- 
erally to the muscles — those bundles of fibres by the con- 
traction of which movements of the limbs, the heart, etc., 
are brought about — and have as their function to convey 
nervous excitation from the centres to these organs. Hence 
they are known as efferent or out-carrying and also as motor 
nerves. The most important of these motor nerves, again, 
for the psychologist are those which run to the striated or 
" voluntary muscles," as those of the limbs. 

The chain of nerve-centres or cerebro-spinal axis con- 
sists of masses of greyish and of white substance arranged 
in a very intricate manner. The essential element in the 
grey matter is the " ganglionic nerve-cell," a minute sac- 
like structure with neck-like projections or ■" processes." 
With these cells or corpuscles are mixed fibrous elements, 
and these last constitute the main constituent of the white 
substance of the nerve-centres. 






Fig. 2. — Ganglion nerve-cells, a, Bipolar cell from spinal ganglion (of a fish) ; 
6, cell from cerebellum ; c, cell showing central origin of nerve-fibre. 

There is reason to suppose that nerve-cells are con- 
nected by their processes with nerve-fibres, and that in this 
way structural continuity is maintained between one nerve- 
cell and another, and one region of the nerve-centres and 
other regions. (See Fig. 2 c.) The fact that motor fibres 
are attached to the anterior portion of the grey matter of 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



l 9 



the spinal cord, sensory fibres to the posterior portion, sug- 
gests that the central substance is throughout divisible 
symmetrically into two sides, a motor and a sensory, though 
this distinction is not fully established. 

This chain of nerve-centres falls into a number of di- 
visions, easily distinguishable by their shape, size, and the 
arrangement of the grey and white substance. The most 
obvious division is that of the narrow cylindrical spinal 
cord, and the bulbous globular mass known as the brain. 
In the cord the grey matter constituting the central organ 
forms the pith or axis, being surrounded by strands of 
nerve-fibre. The cord thus serves both as centres for con- 
necting the sensory and the motor fibres of spinal nerves 
one with another, and also as a prolongation of these fibres 
towards the higher centres of the brain. 

The transition from the cord to the brain is formed by 
an expansion known as the medulla oblongata. Then fol- 
low the different organs of the encephalon or brain itself. 
These are roughly divisible into (i) a group of inferior 
organs, viz., the cerebellum or little brain, and certain 
smaller masses called the basal ganglia, and (2) the cere- 
bral hemispheres forming the larger part of the brain. In 
these last we have the reverse arrangement of grey and 
white substance to that found in the cord. The grey matter 
forms the rind or cortex, and is arranged somewhat after the 
manner of foliage about a branching system of nerve-fibres. 

These highest nerve-centres in the cortex are connected 
by bundles or skeins of nerve-fibre with corresponding 
regions in the other hemisphere, with the lower centres, 
basal ganglia, and lastly with the medulla and cord. These 
last fibrous paths undergo a more or less complete crossing 
or ' decussation,' so that fibres coming from one of the 
right limbs pass to the left hemisphere. The same thing is 
true of the "cranial nerves," those which enter the skull 
and attach themselves directly to one of the lower centres 
of the brain, and which include the nerves of special sense 
whose end-organ is in the head, viz., the eye, ear, organ of 
taste, and smell. 



20 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



It is to be added that the nerve-centres are richly fur- 
nished with blood-vessels. More particularly the brain is 
surrounded by a minute network of vessels by which its 
substance is amply supplied with arterial blood. 



Corpus callosum 



Corona radiata. 



Corpus 
striatum 

Optic'' 
thalamus. 




Ant. pyra- 
mid of 
medulla. 



FlG. 3 (after Waller). — Diagram to illlustrate the course of nerve-fibres from 
spinal cord to cortex, giving the general plan of the two hemispheres of 
the brain, with the position of the two chief basal ganglia (corpus striatum 
and optic thalamus), also the bundles of commissural fibres connecting the 
hemispheres. 

It is evident from this slight sketch of the Nervous Sys- 
tem that it is a system of closely conjoined parts by means 
of which action at any one point, say of a sensory nerve, 
may be propagated in a number of definite directions so as 
to affect other and distant regions of the system itself, and 
the end-organs connected with this system. Not only so, 
we see from the arrangement of the nerve-centres that they 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 2 I 

form a series of organs of growing complexity, admitting 
of more and more intricate and varied connexions between 
one point of the organism and other points. Thus the grey 
matter of the cord is a meeting-point for comparatively few 
paths afferent and efferent, and consequently its actions are 
marked by a high degree of simplicity and invariability. 
The higher centres on the contrary contain meeting-points 
for a much larger system of nervous paths, and conse- 
quently provide a field for more intricate and varied 
actions. 

Function of Nerve-Structures : (a) Nerves. The 
nerve-fibres are, we are told, pure conductors. Their sole 
function is to transmit nervous excitation from one point 
of the nervous system to another. But of the exact nature 
of this nervous activity little is known beyond the common 
assumption that it is some form of molecular vibration or 
tremor. It is found to have some important affinities with 
electrical action, but it must not be confounded with this. 
For one thing, the transmission of a nervous tremor or 
thrill is relatively slow, being about ioo feet per second. 

The two classes of nerves marked off as afferent and 
•efferent are known to have a marked difference of function. 
Under normal circumstances afferent nerves are only ex- 
cited by way of their peripheral attachments (sensitive 
structures, end-organs), and have to conduct the state of 
nervous excitation or tremor from the periphery to the 
centres. Efferent nerves, on the other hand, are stimu- 
lated or ' innervated ' by way of their central connexions, 
and have to transmit the nervous tremor outwards to the 
muscles.* 



* It was formerly supposed that each nerve had its own peculiar and 
unalterable function. This view is known as the doctrine of the specific 
energy of the nerves. Nevertheless recent investigation has tended to show 
that the function of nerve-fibres is not unalterable. Thus it is probable, 
as we shall see by-and-by, that in the case of the nerves of special sense 
the same fibres may exercise a variety of functions, that is, transmit unlike 
modes of excitation, answering to different colours, different tones, and so 
forth, according to the form of the stimulus that acts upon them. 



22 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

{b) Function of Nerve-Centres. The function of the 
central element, the nerve-cell, seems to differ from that of 
the fibre. It is not purely conductive. The propagation 
of nerve-commotion along an afferent fibre suffers a re- 
tardation when it reaches the central cellular substance. 
And this delay is followed by an increase in the energy or 
intensity of the excitation when it issues from the grey 
substance. This increase in intensity is said to be due to a 
liberation of energy, which is an accompaniment of the 
breaking down of complex and unstable chemical com- 
pounds into relatively simple ones. This liberation of cell- 
energy or cellular discharge depends on the presence of 
oxygen in the blood, the supply of which is effected by the 
system of capillaries already referred to. 

In addition to thus strengthening the incoming excita- 
tion the central elements discharge the important function 
of directing its after-course. Owing to the continuity of 
the central substance such excitation may be propagated in 
various directions. The tendency of nervous excitation to 
diffuse itself over the central area is spoken of under the 
name of Irradiation or Diffusion. Such diffusion, however, 
is limited from the first by special anatomical arrangements, 
and becomes more and more so as the brain develops by 
the formation of definite lines of customary propagation or 
connexion between one part of the brain and other parts. 

Inhibitory Action of Central Structures. This re- 
striction of the process of excitation within a definite cir- 
cuit is closely connected with another function of the cen- 
tral organs, viz., Inhibition. The activity of one region of 
the nerve-centres may, when restriction has been effected, 
not only rouse another and connected region to its proper 
functional activity, but hinder or interfere with this, much 
as one kind of light interferes with or extinguishes another. 
Thus the process of motor innervation resulting on an in- 
coming sensory stimulation in the cord, and known as spinal 
reflex, is greatly intensified when the higher centres of the 
brain are removed by decapitation, and this shows that 
these centres exercise an inhibitory influence on the lower 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



23 



ones. This inhibitory action of one central region on 
others is probably carried out by all portions of the cen- 
tral substance. It is presumably the physiological correla- 
tive of those mental processes which involve the exclusion 
of certain activities, as in keeping out irrelevant thoughts 
in concentration, restraining an impulse to act, and so 
forth. 

Mode of Working- of Nervous System. It would 
thus appear that the Nervous System has for its main work 
or function the transformation 
of sensory stimulation into mo- 
tor excitation through the me- 
dium of a nerve-centre. Since 
the process of sensory stimula- 
tion is attributable directly or 
indirectly to the action of some 
external agent on some part of 
the organism, we may say that 
the nervous system is a mecha- 
nism by which the organism is 
able to carry out actions of ad- 
justment or adaptation that bring 
it into correspondence with its 
environment. 

The lower parts of this system 
subserve those responsive acts of 
self-adjustment which, being re- 
quired frequently in precisely the 
same form, are carried out mechanically, and are only very 
slightly modifiable by changes in the stimulus, such as move- 
ment of a limb away from some irritant substance. These 
actions are known as spinal reflexes ; they involve a com- 
paratively simple mechanism, which may be illustrated by 
the accompanying diagram, Fig. 4. 

The higher parts subserve responsive actions which are 
more complex and variable in their form, and have more of 
the character of special adaptations, as in walking along an 
unfamiliar path in the dark ; such actions are known as vol- 




Fig. 4 (after Waller). — Repre- 
senting shorter nerve-circuit in 
spinal reflex action, (i) Periph- 
eral sensitive point ; (2) Af- 
ferent nerve-fibre ; (3) Spinal 
sensory cell ; (4) Commissural 
(connective) fibre ; (5) Spinal 
motor cell ; (6) Efferent nerve- 
fibre ; (7) Muscle. 



24 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



untary. These involve a much more extended and intricate 
mechanism, as may be seen by the diagram, Fig. 5. 

This work of the higher nervous mechanism involves a 
certain control over the lower parts. Thus in combining a 

new group of movements, as in 
learning to swim, the higher cen- 
tres must be supposed to stimu- 
late the lower to a new mode of 
co-ordinate action, which in time 
becomes mechanical. On the 
other hand, any variation of cus- 
tomary grouping of movements, 
as when a recruit tries to walk 
backwards, implies an inhibitory 
action of the controlling centres 
on those lower centres by which 

Fig. 5 (after Waller).— Repre- . J . 

senting longer nerve-circuit in the Customary CO - OrdinatlOll IS 

voluntary action. (1) Peripheral mechanically carried out.* 




sensitive point ; (2) Afferent 
nerve-fibre ; (3) Spinal sensory 
cell ; (4) Afferent tract ; (5) 
Cortical sensory cell ; (6) Com- 
missural fibre ; (7) Cortical 
motor cell ; (8) Efferent tract; 
(9) Spinal motor cell ; (10) 
Efferent nerve-fibre ; (n) Mus- 
cle. 



The "Seat," or Special 
Organs of Consciousness. 

After looking into the working 
of the nervous system as a physi- 
cal mechanism, just as if there 
were no conscious life attached 
to it, we have now to consider 
its relation to the psychical activities which constitute con- 
sciousness. Here our special object will be to determine 
first of all at what points, and secondly in what precise 
manner, the current of physical action which we call nerve- 
commotion is brought into relation to psychical action. 

Our first problem concerns itself with what is called the 
" seat " of the mind, but is better translated into scientific 
language as the special organs of mind, or the "psychical 

* It has been assumed here that all movement is reflex in form, being 
initiated by a sensory process. According to some physiologists, however, 
there are movements called ' automatic ' which issue from an immediate 
excitation of motor centres probably by some form of stimulus supplied by 
special conditions of the blood in the cerebral capillaries. 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



25 



centres." The question here referred to may be put thus: 
What actions of the nervous system are the immediate tem- 
poral concomitants of psychical activity ? 

That there is a special connexion between the cranium 
and mental activity is an idea which was reached by an- 
tiquity Modern investigation confirms this idea and ren- 
ders it precise. Experiment has shown not only that the 
stimulation of the peripheral region of a nerve precedes by 
an appreciable interval of time the appearance of a con- 
scious sensation, but that if the connexion between end-or- 
gan and brain is sundered the outer half of the nerve may 
be stimulated without the production of any conscious phe- 
nomenon. Hence we conclude that the psychical result of 
exciting a sense-organ occurs only when the effect of this 
is transmitted to the central organs. 

Not only so, modern research has established the propo- 
sition that our conscious states are not immediately asso- 
ciated with the actions of the lower centres of the spinal 
cord. These actions, as has been shown by stimulating the 
spinal nerves of decapitated animals, are reflex in form, and 
compared with the actions carried out by means of the 
brain-centres, uniform, like the movements of a machine. 
Hence they are commonly assumed to be unconscious, that 
is, unaccompanied by conscious activity.* 

It appears to follow that psychical processes are spe- 
cially related to the actions of the higher nerve-centres in 
the cranium. And this position has been well established 
by a chain of positive evidence 

The Brain as Organ of Mind. That the phenom- 
ena of our conscious life are connected with the actions 
of the brain is suggested by the fact that mental excite- 
ment, strain, or fatigue is apt to induce sensations which 
we commonly localise in the head. It is still more dis- 

* This conclusion is not, however, accepted by all. Even a decapitated 
frog modifies his actions within certain limits, e. g., rubbing off a spot of 
acid on the left side of his body with his right leg when his left leg has 
been amputated : and some, as Pfluger, would, on this ground, ascribe to 
the animal a subordinate " spinal" mind. 



2 6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tinctly suggested by the common observation that an 
injury to the brain produces unconsciousness. When to 
such common observations science added the fact that the 
brain is the great central station or meeting-point of the 
nervous system, the inference that it has a special signifi- 
cance as an organ of mind became inevitable. The full 
proof of this connexion has, however, only been supplied 
by recent physiological research. 

These investigations furnish a mass of consilient evi- 
dence of the most convincing kind in support of the proposi- 
tion that the nerve-centres of the brain have a special sig- 
nificance as the organ of mind. Among these proofs may 
be instanced : (i) the demonstration that peripheral stimu- 
lation must be transmitted to the brain before sensation 
arises ; (2) the discovery that mental activity is accompanied 
by an increase of circulation in the brain; (3) the fact that 
mental activity is followed by an increase in those waste- 
products which are known to be elements of nerve-cells 
(their phosphorised constituents) ; (4) a mass of facts (the 
outcome partly of pathological observation, partly of ex- 
perimental destruction of different portions of the nerve- 
centres) going to show that injury to the brain is attended 
with some interruption of the psychical activities making up 
normal consciousness; (5) the important fact that any in- 
terruption of the supply of blood to the brain by means of 
one of the great arteries running to the organ is followed 
by a profound disturbance if not a suspension of conscious- 
ness; (6) the confirmation of this physiological evidence 
by the results of comparative anatomy, which show that 
the development of the brain and the degree of intelli- 
gence vary, roughly at least, in a direct ratio among dif- 
ferent species of animals, races of mankind, and individual 
men. 

Modern physiology has not only fully established the 
connexion between the brain and mental activity, but it 
has gone some way to make it probable that it is the highest 
centres in the cortex of the cerebral hemispheres which form the 
immediate physical basis of our mental life, so far at least as 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



V 



this involves clear consciousness. According to this view, 
it is only when sensory impulses are transmitted to the ter- 
mination of the afferent fibres in the cortex that a distinct 
sensation arises. And all volitional initiation of movement 
takes its start in the same supreme region. 

A further question arises as to the specific functions of 
different regions of the cortex. The attempt of the phre- 
nologists Gall and Spurzheim to connect different faculties 
with definite localities on the surface of the brain has been 
condemned both by psychologists and physiologists. More 
recently the subject has been approached from the physio- 
logical side under the heading, the Localisation of cere- 
bral functions. A series of experiments (supplementing the 
results of anatomical and pathological observation) has 
been carried out for the purpose of connecting definite re- 
gions of the cortex with particular varieties of psychical 
elements. 

Such experiments have undoubtedly established special 
correlations between certain regions of the cortex and par- 
ticular groups of psychical elements (sensations and con- 
scious movements) and enable us to speak of particular 
centres of this and that order of sensations and movements 
Thus physiologists are able to mark off, roughly at least, 
a particular centre for visual sensations, auditory sen- 
sations, the movements of the eye-balls, of articulation, 
and so forth. At the same time, there is no reason to 
think that particular psychical processes are related to 
sharply-defined cerebral tracts in the way supposed by phre- 
nologists. 

Correlation of Nervous and Psychical Processes. 
Having thus conjecturally mapped out the physical substra- 
tum of psychical processes, we may inquire into the general 
correlations between the two sets of operation involved. 
In what way or ways, it may be asked, does change in the 
nervous action affect the psychical action ? What are 
most definite aspects of the concomitance between the 
two sets of phenomena ? 

There seems to be a certain correlation in respect both 



28 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the elementary processes and of the mode of their com- 
bination. As we shall see more fully by-and-by, quantitative 
changes in psychical phenomena, e.g., the increase or de- 
crease of intensity of a sensation of light or sound, are 
connected with certain homologous changes in the stimulus 
engaged. Again, there is reason to suppose that qualitative 
dissimilarities in the psychical elements, as illustrated in 
the difference between a sensation of smell and of taste, or 
between a bitter and a sweet taste, correspond to differences 
in the mode or form of the peripheral stimulation. With 
respect to the correlation in the mode of grouping, it may 
be pointed out, even in this introductory stage, that a 
psychical process can, like a nervous process, be regarded as 
a sequence of a sensory or sensational, and a motor stage ; 
also that the co-ordination of psychical elements or particu- 
lar states into the continuous tissue of our mental life or 
the " unity of consciousness," as it is called, appears to 
find its physical counterpart and support in the continuity, 
both of structure and of functional activity, of the brain- 
centres. 

Cerebral and Mental Development. Again, the 
general correlation of brain-action and mental process be- 
comes of importance to the psychologist in tracing the 
course of psychical development. There is good reason to 
suppose that the brain and the mind develop pari passu. 
The growth of the brain as compared with that of the 
whole body follows a curious course. As common observa- 
tion tells us, the brain at birth is greatly in advance of the 
body both in size and in weight. It almost reaches its 
maximum size by about the end of the seventh year. After 
this it undergoes a prolonged process of development, in 
which its elements (cells and fibres) multiply in number, 
more numerous connexions between cell and cell are built up, 
and the several distinctly-marked regions (folds or convolu- 
tions) become better denned. This development of the 
cerebral organs presumably keeps pace with and serves to 
determine the advance of mind. 

The dependence of mental development on cerebral 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



2 9 



changes is illustrated in a peculiar way in the phenomena 
of Habit. By the term Habit is meant the transformation 
of once fully conscious mental processes into semi-conscious 
or automatic actions, as in the practised actions of walking, 
writing, and so forth. This result depends, it is evident, on 
the perfect co-ordination of certain central elements. As a 
result of such perfect " organisation " of psychical actions 
nervous energy is liberated for the building up of new 
formations. 

Physical Substrate of Individuality: Tempera- 
ment. While the nervous system thus subserves the 
common typical form of the mental life, it constitutes 
also the basis of individual character. It is a fact familiar 
to all good observers of children that clearly-marked dif- 
ferences in mental aptitude and disposition show themselves 
within the first years of life. These facts, which point to an 
original and connate idiosyncrasy or individual character, 
appear to necessitate the supposition that the nervous system, 
through exhibiting the same typical plan in all human beings, 
has its pattern of structure somewhat modified in the case 
of different individuals. Observation has shown that ex- 
ceptional powers of intellect are correlated with special 
richness of convolution ; and it is probable that such ex- 
traordinary complexity of structure is predetermined by the 
congenital conformation of the brain. Not only so, there 
is little doubt that differences of mental disposition, as 
that between the quick, lively, and slow, tenacious mind, 
have their physiological counterpart in the functional dif- 
ferences of the nervous system. The old doctrine of Tem- 
perament was a crude attempt to fix the physical substratum 
of such individual differences. A more complete knowledge 
of the nervous system and its mode of action may one day 
enable the physiologist to substitute a truly scientific doc- 
trine of temperament. 

Modern science has familiarised us with the idea of a 
hereditary transmission of mental as well as of physical 
character. The nature of such hereditary transmission will 
be considered later on. Here it is enough to point out 



3 o OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

that the transmission of any special aptitude, taste, or 
moral inclination from parent to child takes place through 
the medium of the nervous system. To every distinct in- 
herited trait or tendency of mind there corresponds pre- 
sumably some peculiarity in the original constitution or set 
of the individual's nervous system. In this way we all 
bring into the world, wrought into the very texture of our 
brain-centres, the physical basis of our future individual 
character, intellectual and moral. 

Practical Bearing of the Correlation of Mind and Brain. The 

correlations between psychical and physical action just traced out have an 
obvious practical bearing. The fact that every psychical process is corre- 
lated with and conditioned by a physical one, that our mental life is made 
up of a group of psycho-physical processes, makes it imperative that in guid- 
ing, controlling, and economising the mental activities we should con- 
stantly refer to the physiological conditions. Since the amount of mental 
activity at any time depends directly on the amount of disposable cerebral 
energy, it becomes a'matter of the first consequence, in order to secure the 
most efficient thought and action, that we should satisfy the conditions of 
vigorous cerebral action. Brain-power may be lowered by want of nutri- 
tion, by insufficient supply of oxygen, by any organic cause tending to en- 
feeble the body generally, as also by fatigue of the brain itself. Hence the 
importance of discovering and choosing efficient moments, that is, moments 
when the tide of brain-power is at its highest, for all the severer forms of 
mental activity. This applies not only to the economical regulation of our 
own brain-activities, but to the economical management of brain-power in 
the young. Thus the putting of the chief stress of school-work into the 
morning, the frequent remission of class-work in favour of bodily exercise, 
the due attention to the health and physical vigour of the young learner 
as the foundation of mental activity, these and similar rules are among the 
most important pedagogic applications of scientific principles. 

In addition to the bearing of the general dependence of mental activity 
on brain-vigour, the modern doctrine of localisation of brain-function sug- 
gests the practical desirability of varying mental occupation. Taking up a 
new pursuit, as in passing from some problem of thought to the contempla- 
tion of a work of art, often serves in lieu of complete relaxation of brain- 
work ; and this appears to find its explanation in the fact that different 
kinds of mental activity, especially when distinct sense-organs are in- 
volved, engage different central structures. Here, again, applications to 
the teaching art at once suggest themselves. We may do much to avoid 
brain-fatigue in our pupils by frequent change of lesson, whereby brain- 
activity is shifted from one region to another recuperated by rest. This is 



THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF MENTAL LIFE. 



31 



especially true of occupations which bring in new sense-organs, as in a 
transition from an exercise in writing to an oral lesson, or to singing. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

A fuller account of the Nervous System in its connexions with mind 
may be found in the elaborate treatise of Ladd, The Elements of Physio- 
logical Psychology, or his smaller work, The Outlines. With this may be 
usefully compared Ferrier's Functions of the Brain, and Bastian's The 
Brain as an Organ of Mind. 



PART II. 
GENERAL VIEW OF MIND. 



CHAPTER III. 

CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 

Mental Life Divisible into Certain Functions. 

Our mental life or " stream of consciousness " shows itself 
as soon as we inspect it to be of an intricate weft-like com- 
position. The different strands or threads of this weft we 
are able by psychological analysis to consider apart. (See' 
above, p. 7.) Such analysis of the concrete 'states of 
mind ' or " psychoses " into their constituent factors leads 
on, as has been pointed out, to classification. Thus by dis- 
tinguishing in a state of mental perplexity an intellectual 
element, the presence of certain ideas, and a feeling of dis- 
tress, we may be said to bring it into a relation of likeness 
to other intellectual states and to other feelings, and thus 
to group it under each of these heads or classes. 

There is great need of an improved terminology to mark off the facts 
of our conscious experience. The expression " mental state," which is 
commonly used, is open to the objection that it suggests a sharply defined 
and relatively permanent condition, whereas psychical phenomena are 
essentially continuous changes or transitional movements. The phrase 
'mental operation,' or still better, 'process,' is less open to this objection, 
and indicates the fact that the least distinguishable phase in the current of 
our conscious life has something of movement in it. The same idea of a 
movement or process is expressed by the newly introduced term " psycho- 
sis," which serves as the correlative of " neurosis " or nerve-process. 



CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 



33 



Feeling", Knowing - , and Willing. The popular psy- 
chology embodied in every-day forms of expression has 
long since drawn certain broad distinctions among mental 
phenomena. Thus we commonly describe a number of op- 
erations, such as, observing what is present to the senses, 
remembering and judging as Intellectual operations or 
acts. So, again, we bring a variety of mental states, as 
fear, hope, disappointment, vindictiveness, remorse, under 
the general description of Feeling, or Affective States.* 
And, lastly, we bring together other operations, such as the 
actions we perform for a purpose or end, and the processes 
which accompany those actions, as deliberating and resolv- 
ing, and mark them off by the general description of voli- 
tion, willing, or active states. 

These three categories have been regarded by most 
modern psychologists as indicating the primary functions 
or fundamental modes of activity of mind. All that the 
mind does can be brought under one or more of the follow- 
ing heads : (a) Knowing, Cognition, or Intellection ; (b) 
Feeling, States of Pleasure and Pain, or Affective States ; 
and (c) Willing, Conation, or Active Processes.f Our men- 
tal life may thus be said to be composed of ever-varied 
combinations of these functional activities as its ultimate 
factors or constituent elements. 

In thus adopting the popular scheme of three broadly 
distinguished modes of mental activity, the psychologist 
seeks by a further application of analysis to detect the es- 
sential or radical element in each. Thus he aims at pene- 



* As there is no adjective corresponding to the substantive feeling, it is 
customary to use emotional state as an equivalent for feeling. It is to be 
noted, however, that the term emotion is properly confined to the higher 
and more complex feelings. 

f The terms commonly used to mark oft the three phases of mind are 
somewhat ambiguous. Thus 'feeling,' which here indicates states of 
pleasure and pain, is not only used as the name of a particular sense 
(touch), but also as the generic term for all simple psychical phenomena, 
e. g., sensations. There is a similar ambiguity in the terms action and 
active, which are now employed generically for all mental operations, now 
specially for the conative or volitional phase of these. 
3 



34 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



trating below the variety of intellectual operations which 
we popularly refer to distinct ' faculties,' as Observation, 
Reason, and at finding the common elementary process or 
simple functional activity that-runs through this variety. 

Primary Intellectual Functions. If we compare 
these different types of intellectual operation we may 
readily discover such an elementary process. To perceive, 
and to think, are alike reducible to certain processes car- 
ried out on materials supplied by the senses, and known as 
Sensations. Thus when I perceive an orange I group to- 
gether a number of sensations, those of a particular colour, 
taste, and so on ; and, moreover, recognise the colour, etc., 
now presented to me as similar to what has been presented 
before. So in thinking about the qualities of oranges or of 
fruit in general, I am making use of, and carrying out cer- 
tain operations upon, materials obtained, in the first place, 
through the senses. 

The primary intellectual functions consist in establish- 
ing or consciously realising certain relations among the data 
supplied by sense.* Of these relations the most important 
are Similarity or Agreement, Difference or Dissimilarity, 
and connexion in time or place constituting wholeness or 
unity. When I recognise a friend in the street, I am aware, 
more or less distinctly, of a relation of likeness between 
what is now seen and what was seen before ; I am also 
(vaguely) aware of relations of difference between this ob- 
ject and other objects. Not only so, by connecting what 
is now presented to sight with what I already know, I take 
up the impression into a whole, viz., the idea of my friend 
with all the associations or complications which this idea 
involves. These elementary processes may be marked off 
as Assimilation, Differentiation, or Discrimination, and As- 
sociation. 

It is to be noted that while Differentiation introduces 

* The fact that intellection has to do with apprehending relations is 
brought out in Herbert Spencer's theory of mind as made up of feelings, 
i. e., simple psychical states and " relations between feeling." {Principles 
of Psychology, vol. i. part ii. chap, ii.) 



CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 



35 



separateness or distinction of parts, both Assimilation and 
Integration effect Conjunction and Combination. Hence 
we may say that intellection consists in a double process of 
Separation and Combination, Differentiation and Integra- 
tion, or Analysis and Synthesis. 

The processes of intellection further involve a property 
which is sometimes given as a primary element of intellect, 
viz., Retentiveness, or the power of retaining past impres- 
sions, and recalling them when no longer supplied by their 
external cause. Thus, in the illustration just considered, it 
is evident that I should not recognise the moving form as 
my friend if this peculiar appearance to the eye had not 
been firmly stamped into the mind so as to be revived now. 
It is through this retentive power of the mind that the pre- 
sentative element given to us in sensation afterwards reap- 
pears under a re-presentative form.* 

Retentiveness is included by Dr. Bain with Consciousness of Difference 
and of Likeness as a primary function of intellect. f Its position in Intel- 
lect is, however, a unique one. The mere retention of an impression does 
not constitute knowing or cognition, as the processes of discrimination, 
etc., constitute it. It is rather the underlying condition of intellective ac- 
tivity than a part of the knowing process itself. As we shall see presently, 
it underlies the whole process of intellectual, and indeed of mental devel- 
opment. 

Constituent Elements of Feeling: Pleasure and 
Pain. In the case of the feelings or affective states the 
elementary functions stand out pretty clearly. To be af- 
fected by joy, grief, fear, or hope is to be affected agreeably 
or disagreeably, that is to say, to experience pleasure or its 
opposite, pain, in a greater or less degree. All modes of 
feeling, from the lowest forms which connect themselves 
with the bodily life, as hunger, warmth, to the highest forms 
known as emotions, as Love, Admiration, Regret, exhibit 
this double element in feeling. And, according to the more 

* Presentative, presentation, refer to what is immediately presented to 
us by the channel of the senses. Re-presentation is the revival of this in 
the shape of a mental image. 

f See Compendium of Mental Science, book ii. § I. 



36 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

common psychological view at least, there is no feeling 
which does not exhibit the colouring or ' tone ' of the 
agreeable or disagreeable.* 

Sensibility to pleasure and pain may thus be said to be 
the essential element in our affective states or emotional 
life. 

Fundamental Functions in Willing. As in the case 
of Cognition and Feeling, so in that of Conation or Volition 
we may resolve the variety of operations covered by the 
term into certain constituent functions. 

Volition appears to follow two main directions. These 
are (i) the bodily direction of motor or muscular action, as 
in moving a limb ; and (2) the mental direction of attention, 
as in listening for a sound. 

These two directions of volitional activity are clearly 
marked off from one another in common thought. We 
know the difference between exerting muscular force, as in 
lifting a body with the arm, and scrutinising the same ob- 
ject with an attentive glance. Nevertheless they will be 
found to be closely connected. All attention involves some 
muscular action, as in fixing the eye on an object: on the 
other hand, all voluntary movement takes place by direct- 
ing attention to the idea of a movement. It follows that 
all voluntary action has as its essential factor attention, 
which again receives its characteristic colouring from the 
psychical concomitant of muscular action, viz., the peculiar 
sensation of muscular exertion or strain. 

Mental Functions and Faculties. The attempt to reach elementary 
functions of mind and to exhibit all concrete mental operations as com- 
pounded of these is comparatively recent. The tendency of psychologists 
has been to separate as sharply as possible different modes of operation by 
referring them to distinct faculties. Thus will was viewed as a faculty 
distinct from intellect ; and within the domain of intelligence, observation 
as a faculty distinct from imagination, this distinct from judgment, and so 
forth. The extreme form of the faculty-theory was a view of mind as 
made up of a number of separate powers, each of which carried on its 



* This point is, as we shall see later, not conceded by all psychologists 
some holding that feeling may be neutral or indifferent as regards pleasure 
and pain. 



CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 37 

operations with supreme indifference to all the rest, and as having no more 
organic unity than a number of sticks fastened together in a bundle. This 
way of regarding mind is still met with not only in every-day unscientific 
' psychology ' but in works on education. The faculty-hypothesis, which 
has been severely criticised by Herbart, Wundt and others, is open to the 
fatal objection that it overlooks the organic unity of mind. 

Physiological Concomitants of Mental Function. 

If there is a general correlation between mental and nerv- 
ous processes, it is to be expected that corresponding with 
each of the distinct varieties of mental function, feeling, in- 
tellection, and conation, there will be a particular division 
or aspect of nervous process, and this correspondence 
may be traced up to a certain point. It has been pointed 
out that the typical nervous process falls into two parts, 
viz., sensory stimulation and motor innervation, or motor 
discharge. Now, all intellectual activity is carried out 
upon, and so involves sensations, that is, the psychical re- 
sults of sensory stimulation ; either in their original form 
as presentative elements, e. g., impressions of colour, or as 
worked up into what are known as representations (images, 
ideas). Accordingly intellection may be said to be specially 
related to sensory processes, and to the co-ordination of 
sensory components by central connexions. In like man- 
ner volition stands in a special relation to the motor side 
of the nervous system. The nervous correlatives of Feel- 
ing are less obvious. In respect of its origin it stands in 
close relation to sensory processes, in respect of its mani- 
festation, to motor processes. 

The tripartite division of mind into Feeling, Cognition, and Conation 
has only recently been adopted. The ancient mode of dividing mind as 
fixed by Aristotle was bipartite into intellect and will, a division which 
still survives in popular psychology (" the intellectual and moral faculties"). 
The recognition of three functions is due to the German psychologists of 
last century. 

Even now psychologists are not agreed in regarding the three modes 
of mental activity as equally primordial. Thus in Germany Herbart and 
his school tend to make presentation, that is, the cognitive element, funda- 
mental, and to view feeling and conation as secondary and derivative. A 
somewhat similar attitude is taken in this country by Hamilton, in so far 



33 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



as he regards consciousness as essentially cognitive, and at the same time 
the mental condition of all varieties of mental states. Others again, as 
Horwicz, would give to feeling a fundamental position on the ground that 
in the development of the infant as also of animal life it is the first and 
primordial manifestation of mind. 

Relation of Feeling, Knowing, and Willing. Sup- 
posing these three modes of mental functioning to be radi- 
cally distinct, a further question arises as to the way in 
which the three constituents come in, and behave one 
towards another, in the actual performances of our con- 
crete minds. 

Now, at a first glance, there appears to be a direct an- 
tagonism between these psychical factors, so that no one 
can operate fully save through the momentary repression 
of the others. Thus all strong feeling (emotional excite- 
ment) tends to preclude at the moment the processes of 
intellection and of volition. Thinking implies, at the mo- 
ment, a certain subsidence of the feelings, and also a con- 
siderable suppression of outward action or movement. In- 
deed, we may say that no one phase can appear in its highest 
intensity without tending to eclipse for the time the other phases. 

Yet while there is this measure of opposition between 
the three functions as rival tendencies to become conspicu- 
ous and predominant, we are not to suppose that they ever 
act in perfect isolation one from the other. The mind is 
an organic unity, and its activities have the closest degree 
of organic interdependence and interaction. 

To begin with one of the most familiar of these rela- 
tions, there is a close connexion between thought and feel- 
ing. A large number of our feelings (the Emotions) are 
called forth by, and indeed organically bound up with, in- 
tellectual states (ideas, recollections, anticipations). Con- 
versely, feeling influences the course of the thoughts in 
many and profound ways. We habitually think the thoughts 
which please us, that is, which connect themselves with and 
gratify our feelings. Again, feeling and thought interact 
with conation. We act because we are moved by feeling 
and guided by cognition or thought. Reciprocally, volition 



CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 



39 



directs and controls the process of thought or intellection, 
and, in close connexion with this, the flow of feeling. 

If we take any mental state or " psychosis " in its con- 
crete fulness, we shall by close inspection detect each of 
the functions co-operating in some degree. Thus when we 
are said to be affected by passionate grief it is easy to rec- 
ognise a mass of more or less distinct ideation,* and a num- 
ber of impulses to action. It may be said then that all 
C07?iplete psychoses are compound products into which the three 
psychical functions enter as elementary factors. 

A further question raised by Lewes, Ward and others is 
whether the three functional activities uniformly combine 
in one mode of arrangement or scheme. If we start from 
the physiological side, the fact that the typical nervous 
process is reflex suggests at once that the cognitive pre- 
cedes the conative phase. And there is no doubt that many 
of our concrete mental states or psychoses lend themselves 
to the scheme, a presentation or representation attended 
by feeling leading on to conation. Yet to attempt to force 
all our mental processes into one mould in this way is 
futile. The mental functions interact, that is, act recipro- 
cally one upon another. Thus, while the cognitive element 
directs the conative process, the conative process in the 
shape of attention is in its turn an essential factor in every 
complete process of intellection. 

It follows from the above that we cannot classify our 
concrete mental states or psychoses by bringing each under 
one, and only one, of these heads as if it were a pure feel- 
ing, cognition or volition. Strictly speaking, every variety 
of mental experience can be brought under any one of 
these, three heads according as we view this or that con- 
stituent element. At the same time most of our mental 
operations are characterised by a sufficiently marked pre- 
ponderance of one of the phases to justify us in referring 
it to this rather than to the others. 

* ' Ideation ' is the word now frequently used for the process of form- 
ing ideas. It is thus equivalent to "representation," in its contrast to 
" presentation." 



4o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Truths or Laws of Mind. We saw above that the 
psychologist analyses and classifies mental phenomena in 
order to go on to establish general propositions about them. 
These are known as truths of mind. The most important 
of them are commonly spoken of as laws of mind. These 
truths or laws set forth the relatio?is of psychical phe- 
nomena, whether among themselves or between them and 
the correlated physical processes. The most important of 
these relations are connexions in time, and more particularly 
relations of dependence or interdependence. Psychological 
laws, like those of physical science, seek to account for a 
phenomenon by formally enumerating the conditions, which, 
taken together, result in its production. 

Here again mental science is supplementing and ren- 
dering precise the inductions reached by popular thought. 
Men have for ages observed certain relations of depend- 
ence between circumstances and character, and one trait of 
character or habit and another. All the well-known say- 
ings about character and life embody these observations. 
Such trite remarks as " experience is the best teacher," 
"first impressions last longest," contain the rough germ of 
psychological truths. The psychologist seeks to take up 
these " empirical generalisations " into his science, exhibit- 
ing them as consequences of his more accurate scientific 
laws. 

As an illustration of such a psychological principle we 
may take the well-known Laws of Association, which set 
forth the fact that when particular conditions are realised 
ideas will be revived. These laws are universal in the 
sense that they will be found to apply not merely to intel- 
lectual phenomena or presentations, but to feelings and to 
actions. 

In thus seeking to connect psychical phenomena with 
their conditions the psychologist may sometimes content 
himself with a reference to immediately preceding conditions. 
Thus he may explain what is known as a percept as the 
product of the process called perception, in which process 
sensations and other factors take part. But, as already 



CONSTITUENTS OF MIND. 



41 



pointed out, a complete explanation of psychical phenom- 
ena will require him to go beyond this, and to view the 
present psychical process as in part determined by remote 
antecedents. Thus the Laws of Association explain the sug- 
gestion of ideas one by another as the result of a conjoint 
occurrence of the original sense-experiences. The full car' 
rying out of this idea of psychological explanation takes us 
on to the genetic or historical view of mind spoken of above. 
While thus seeking to formulate laws of the greatest 
generality, the psychologist will also aim at pointing out 
more special conditions. Thus he will formulate the par- 
ticular conditions, psychical and physical, of feeling as dis- 
tinct from presentation, and further specialise his principles 
so as to enumerate the particular group of conditions which 
determines the growth of some variety of feeling, as the 
Moral Sentiment. 

Value of Analysis of Mind to the Educator. A word or two may 
suffice to indicate the more important bearings of this chapter on the art 
of Education. To begin with, since the educator is engaged in exercising 
the mind by stimulating some process as observation, or recollection, he 
requires an accurate scientific understanding of this process. A teacher 
will often fail to secure a good piece of observation or reasoning from his 
pupil because he does not see all that the process includes, e.g., discrimina- 
tion in observing, assimilation or tracing out resemblances in reasoning. 

It is obvious, further, that a knowledge of the laws of mental processes, 
of their co-operating conditions, must be a matter of the greatest practical 
utility to the educator. Since his aim is to evoke some variety of mental 
activity and to secure a particular mental product, he needs a precise 
knowledge of the law of this activity and of the conditions on which the 
desired result depends. Thus in order to render the meaning of words 
as clear and definite as possible to a child's mind he will do well to note 
the conditions on which a clear notion or concept depends, such as a firm 
grasp of a variety of concrete examples. 

Again, though the art of education is concerned primarily with the in- 
tellectual side of the mind, the educator will be called on to deal with the 
other sides also. Thus the development of the will and moral character 
is looked upon as an integral part of any complete plan of education. Not 
only so, the claims of feeling to a special independent mode of culture are 
now coming to be recognised, as is seen in the greater attention paid to 
sesthetic education. In this way the teacher needs to study the special 
laws which govern each side of the mental life of his pupils. He requires 



42 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



further to grasp the organic unity of mind, the interaction of thought, feel- 
ing, and volition. Thus in dealing with the child's intelligence he must 
see how feeling or interest, together with the activity of will in the shape 
of effort (concentration of mind), is involved. Similarly as moral educa- 
tor he must discern the way in which the intellectual processes, reflection, 
thought, contribute to right conduct. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the Analysis or Division of Mind the reader may consult Bain, The 
Senses and the Intellect, Introduction ; Ward, article " Psychology," Ency- 
clopedia Britannica, p. 39 ff. ; Hoffding, Psychology, iv. ; and J. M. Bald- 
win, Handbook of Psychology, chap. iii. 



CHAPTER IV. 

PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS: SENSATIONS, ETC. 

Elements and their Combination. In the preceding 
chapter we have distinguished between the ultimate con- 
stituents of Mind. These affective, intellective, and cona- 
tive factors indicate different phases of the mental life and 
different directions of mental development. We have now 
to trace the development of each constituent, so far as this is 
possible, apart from the others, from its most rudimentary 
to its mature form. 

This exposition of the threefold movement of develop- 
ment will necessarily begin with an account of the elements, 
or those simplest psychical phenomena with which the men- 
tal life of the individual begins. These are to be found, as 
already observed, in sensations and other simple phenomena 
closely conjoined with these. In the present chapter we 
shall be concerned with these elements. In a succeeding 
chapter we shall inquire into the processes by which these 
elements are combined into higher and more complex 
forms. 

(a) Sensations. 

Definition of Sensation. The term Sensation, as 
commonly used, has a certain ambiguity. In every-day 
language we apply the name to those simple mental affec- 
tions which are connected with variations of bodily state, 
as sensations of cold, of hunger, of cramp. We hardly de- 
scribe the mental effect of light, sound, and so forth, as 
sensations. Psychologists have long since extended the 
denotation of the term so as to include all the simple psy- 



44 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

chical phenomena arising immediately out of the action of 
the senses. 

A sensation, being an elementary mental phenomenon, 
cannot be defined by being resolved into anything more 
simple. Its meaning can only be indicated by a reference to 
the nervous processes on which it is known to depend. Ac- 
cordingly, a sensation may in a manner be defined as a 
simple psychical phenomenon resulting from the stimulation of 
the peripheral extremity of an afferent nerve when this is propa- 
gated to the brain (psychical centre or ' seat of conscious- 
ness '). Thus the stimulation of a point of the skin by 
pressure, or of the retina of the eye by light, gives rise to a 
sensation. 

The more important of our sensations, those of the five senses, are pro- 
duced by the action of some external agent, as pressure or light, on the 
end-organ. But it is not desirable to refer to this in our definition. In the 
case of many of our " organic " sensations, those due to changes in the 
vital processes, as hunger, thirst, there is no such external agent at work. 
It is to be noted that a pure elementary sensation according to this defini- 
tion is, so far as we know, a fiction, postulated only as a necessary starting- 
point. What seems a pure sensation to us in mature life when we begin to 
study it, is really complicated by residua of past sensations, and is the re- 
sult of rudimentary processes of assimilation and integration. 

By defining the term we are able to define the corre- 
sponding abstract term, Sensibility. This means the ca- 
pacity of experiencing or being affected by sensations. It 
is to be noted that sensibility, like sensation, refers to the 
psychical effect, and not to the physiological process. It is 
true that we are wont to attribute sensibility to the portion 
of the organism in which the process of stimulation is set 
up, as the hand, the tongue. But this is due to that unalter- 
able habit of projecting and localising our sensations, the 
origin of which will be dealt with by-and-by. 

Presentative and Effective Element in Sensation. 
If we examine our sensations we may, in most cases at 
least, easily distinguish two elements or aspects which 
clearly contrast one with another. Thus a sensation of 
taste, say that of a pear, has a particular character (or char- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 45 

acters) by means of which we come to know what this sen- 
sation stands for, viz., the pear. This element may be 
called the intellectual element since it subserves cognition, 
or the presentative element inasmuch as it enters into the 
"presentations of sense" or sense-perceptions to be ex- 
plained hereafter. But the flavour of a pear has a second 
and distinct aspect, viz., a pleasantness or agreeableness, in 
consequence of which it is liked, prolonged, and desired. 
This is a properly affective element, and may be marked off 
as sense-feeling, that is to say, that elementary phase of 
feeling which is immediately involved in sensation. As we 
shall see presently, the relative proportion of these two 
elements varies greatly in the case of different classes of 
sensation. 

General or Common Sensation : Organic Sense. 
All parts of the organism supplied by sensory fibres from 
the cerebro-spinal system give rise to sensations. These 
fall into two main classes : Common or General Sensation, 
and Special Sensation. The former involve no special 
structure (end-organ) at the peripheral termination of the 
nerve-fibres, the latter do involve such a structure. The 
common sensations together make up what has been vari- 
ously called the organic or the systemic sense. 

Common sensation includes certain sensations which 
result from changes in the skin and the outer region of the 
body generally, including the special organs as the eye and 
the muscles, and also other sensations connected with the 
internal vital organs. The former comprise sensations of 
tickling, tingling, shivering, certain muscular sensations, as 
cramp, the painful sensations resulting from severe pressure 
and laceration of tissue, and so forth* The organic skin- 
sensations have to be carefully distinguished from the 
sensations of touch proper. The internal sensations are 
those which accompany special conditions, and particu- 
larly all disturbances, of the vital functions, as those 

* It is not certain whether the sensations of muscular fatigue should 
be included under organic sensations, or whether they belong to the class 
of special muscular sensations to be spoken of presently. 



4 6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of tight-breathing, hunger, indigestion, local inflammation 
and heat. 

These common sensations are apt to blend in a mass, so 
that it is exceedingly difficult by analysis to single them 
out for careful observation. So far as this is possible we 
find that they have very little of a definite presentative 
aspect, corresponding to the peculiarity of a sensation of 
blue colour, or of a bitter flavour, while they have a strong- 
ly marked effective tone (agreeableness or disagreeable- 
ness). 

Owing to their lack of distinct presentative character 
and to the fact that they are not the direct effects of the 
action of external objects but involve a change of condi- 
tion in the part affected, the common or organic sensations 
give us no knowledge of the external world. They can no 
doubt inform us to some extent of the condition of the 
organism itself, and hence they have been described as the 
"barometer of our life-process." 

Specialised Sensibility : Special Senses. The 
specialised varieties of sensation arising through the stimu- 
lation of the eye, the ear, and so on, are marked off one 
from another by great definiteness of presentative charac- 
ter. This peculiarity, as already pointed out, is connected 
with the fact that each sense has its own specially modified 
structure or organ, as the eye or the ear, which structure is 
peculiarly adapted to the action of one variety of stimulus 
(ether vibrations, air waves, etc.). Owing to this definite- 
ness of character the special sensations are much more 
susceptible of being discriminated, assimilated, and inte- 
grated than the organic sensations. Moreover, these sensa- 
tions are (in ordinary cases) brought about by the action of 
external agents or objects lying outside the organism, for 
which reason they are often spoken of as sense-impressions 
or impressions of sense. Hence they are fitted to yield us 
knowledge of the external world. It is the special senses 
which will chiefly occupy us in tracing the development of 
intelligence. 

The special senses are the well-known five, sight, hear- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 47 

ing, touch, smell, and taste. These, it is evident, each in- 
volve a special mode of sensibility, and a particular kind 
of 'end-organ' fitted to be acted on by a certain kind of 
stimulus. Whether we ought to add to these a sixth sense, 
the muscular, will be considered hereafter. 

Distinguishable Aspects or Characters of Sen- 
sation. The importance of the special senses depends, as 
we have seen, on their possessing certain presentative 
aspects or well-defined characters, whereby they are fitted 
to be signs of qualities in external objects, as well as of 
the changes which take place in these. The sum-total of 
our knowledge of things is limited by the number of dis- 
tinguishable characters among our sensations. We will 
first inquire into these distinguishable characters generally, 
and then briefly indicate their varying importance in the 
case of the different senses. 

(a) Intensity. One obvious difference of character 
among our sensations is that of intensity. The difference 
between a bright and a dull light, a loud and a soft sound, 
is appreciated through what we call a difference of intensity 
in the respective sensations. The subjective differences 
correspond to objective differences in the strength of the 
stimuli. If, as the physicist tells us, every form of stimu- 
lation, whether ether or air vibrations, or mechanical press- 
ure, is a variety of movement, we may say that the intensity 
of a sensation is specially correlated with the breadth or 
amplitude of movement in the stimulus. 

All classes of sensation, including the organic, exhibit 
differences of intensity. Those of the special senses ex- 
hibit them in greater number or finer gradation than other 
sensations. We cannot distinguish two shades of hunger 
as nicely as we can distinguish -two degrees of intensity in 
the sensations of light and of sound. Such minute differ- 
ences are intellectually important as a clue to the precise 
nature or structure of bodies, the degree of force exerted 
by them, their exact distance from us, and so forth. Thus 
a sensation of light of given intensity indicates (according 
to circumstances) a particular degree of brightness in an 



4 8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

object (e.g., a flame, a mass of snow), or its degree of prox- 
imity to the eye. 

It is natural to ask whether these differences can be ex- 
actly estimated. Such a quantitative measurement of sen- 
sational intensity would, it is evident, serve to give to psy- 
chology something of that quantitative exactness which 
Kant and others have desiderated. Of late an attempt has 
been made to do this. This has been by noting the correla- 
tions between intensity of sensation and strength or in- 
tensity of the external stimulus. 

Relation of Intensity to Strength of Stimulus. 
The physicist has special apparatus by which the exact 
quantity of certain at least of the stimuli of our senses, 
e. g., luminous rays, can be estimated and varied. By help 
of such apparatus it has been found possible to apply a 
graduated series of stimuli to a sense-organ, and to note 
the precise effect of successive increments of the stimulus 
on the resulting sensations. These researches belong to 
the new department of experimental psychology known as 
Psycho-physics. 

Among the results of this line of research are: (a) 
Every stimulus must reach a certain intensity before any 
appreciable sensation results. This point is known as the 
threshold or liminal intensity of sensation. 

The situation of this point determines what has been 
called the Absolute Sensibility of an organ or part of an or- 
gan. Thus if two portions of the skin, A and B, differ in 
respect of their sensibility to pressure in such a way that a 
slighter force of impact (mechanical pressure) causes a sen- 
sation in the case of A than in that of B, we say that A has 
greater absolute sensibility than B. 

(b) When the threshold is passed an increase of the 
stimulus does not always cause an increase in the intensity 
of the sensation. A very slight increase (increment) may 
produce no appreciable effect. It is further found that the 
amount of increase of stimulus required to produce an ap- 
preciable difference in the sensation varies with the absolute 
intensity of the stimulus. Thus a very slight addition to a 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



49 



light-stimulus which would be sufficient to produce an in- 
crease of intensity in the case of a feeble sensation would 
produce no effect in that of a powerful one. The greater 
the intensity of the stimulus already at work the greater 
must be the increase of stimulus in order that a perceptible 
difference in the resulting sensation may arise. It is found 
that (within certain limits in the median region of the in- 
tensity scale) the required increment is directly proportion- 
ate to the intensity of the stimulus. Thus, whatever the 
value of s, the stimulus, in order to produce an increase in 
the intensity of the sensation, s must be increased by ks, 
where k stands for some constant fraction, as l / to * 

These results may be expressed as follows: I?i order that 
the intensity of a sensation may increase in arithmetical progres- 
sion, the stimulus must increase in a geometrical progression. 
This is known as Weber's or Fechner's Law. The law has 
been found to hold good within certain limits only. 

The magnitude of the fraction representing the incre- 
ment of stimulus necessary to produce an increase of sensa- 
tion determines what has been called the Discriminative Sen- 
sibility. The smaller the fraction the greater the discrimina- 
tive sensibility. Thus the discriminative sensibility of the 
finger-tip to pressure is about twice that of the sensibility 
of the shoulder-blade, the fractions being approximately l / 6 
and %. 

(c) When the stimulus is increased up to a certain point 
any further increase produces no appreciable increase in the 
sensation. Thus a very powerful sound may be increased 
without our detecting any difference. Similarly in the case 
of a light-stimulus. We do not notice any difference in 
brightness between the central and peripheral portions of 
the sun's disc though the difference of light-intensity is 
enormous. This upper or maximum limit has been called 
the " height of sensibility " of a sense. 

(b) Quality of Sensation. In addition to differences 
of intensity in one and the same kind of sensation, we have 

* This fraction differs considerably for different sense-organs. 
4 



5o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



differences of kind or quality among our sensations. The 
group of sensations making up a particular sense, as those 
of sound, are marked off from other groups by a broad 
difference of generic quality. This is the most obvious dif- 
ference, and the one first distinguished. Owing to their 
disparateness or heterogeneity, the sensations of different 
senses cannot be compared one with another as different 
tones or colours can. It is only in rare cases, and more 
particularly in that of taste and smell, that such disparate 
sensations are ever confused one with another. 

Next to these broad differences there are finer differ- 
ences of specific quality within each sense. Thus there are 
the differences of quality answering to different colours in 
sight, to sounds of different pitch and of different timbre 
or musical 'quality' in hearing, and so on. These differ- 
ences of quality are much sharper or more definite in the 
case of some sensations than in that of others. They are 
only very vague in the region of organic sensations, and are 
much less definite and easily distinguishable in the lower 
senses (taste and smell) than in the higher. Such differ- 
ences, like those of intensity, serve as a clue to the proper- 
ties of external objects. The difference between gold and 
iron is partly a difference of colour-quality. 

Physiological Conditions of Quality. Quality of 
Sensation, like intensity, presumably has its special physi- 
ological conditions. The generic differences, e. g., those of 
sensations of smell, of sound, etc., are correlated with im- 
portant differences in the mode of stimulation, as that be- 
tween the action of ether vibrations or light on the retina 
of the eye and mechanical pressure on the skin. These 
physical differences in the external stimuli correspond, as 
we have seen, to physiological differences in the special or- 
gans. Each organ is specially constructed so as to react 
on the application of a particular kind of stimulus. 

With respect to the physiological equivalents of specific 
differences of quality, we know certainly in the cases of 
sight and hearing that qualitative change in the sensation 
answers to a certain amount of change in the form (wave 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



51 



length) of the stimulus. And it seems reasonable to sup- 
pose that such differences affect the character of the result- 
ing molecular activity of the nervous structures. 

A further question already touched on is whether, and 
if so how far, qualitative differences involve in every case 
distinct nervous structures. We may suppose that the dif- 
ference between red and blue, sweet and bitter, is correlated 
either with the separateness of the nervous elements (periph- 
eral and central) involved, or merely with a difference of 
functional activity in the same elements. Modern research 
has gone to show that in certain cases, e. g., sensations of 
hearing and of sight, there is a multiplicity of nervous ele- 
ments engaged. On the other hand, it cannot be said that 
separateness of structure has been made out in the case of 
every ultimate difference of quality. 

A difference of quality, though sometimes confused in popular language 
with one of quantity {e. g., in regarding black and grey as dissimilar quali- 
ties like colours), is in general easily distinguishable from the last. 

Not only is quality distinct from quantity, but it is independent of this 
in so far as it is not necessarily affected by changes of intensity. At the 
same time this independence is not complete. Thus after a certain increase 
in intensity quality becomes less distinct. As all colours grow very bright 
they approach one another and tend to become whitish. Similarly the ex- 
tremities of great heat and great cold lose their qualitative dissimilarity and 
tend to be confused one with another. 

Extensity ; Local Distinctness. Next to intensity 
and quality the most important feature of sensation is 
massiveness, volume or extensity. Sensation varies in 
amount or quantity not only with the strength of the stimula- 
tion, but with the number of nervous elements stimulated, 
or area of sensitive surface engaged. The extreme difference 
shows itself between an 'acute' sensation, as that arising 
from the pressure on the skin of a pin point, and a ' mass- 
ive ' sensation, as that arising from an extended pressure 
on the skin. Differences of extensity must be carefully 
distinguished from those of intensity. It is one thing to 
increase pressure at a point of the skin, as by piling up a 
column of sixpenny pieces, another thing to spread a given 



52 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



degree of pressure over a larger surface, as in laying the six- 
penny pieces side by side. Extensity is thus a new 
quantitative aspect or dimension of sensation. 

Common observation tells us that when two points of 
the skin sufficiently far apart are stimulated we experience 
not one continuous but two distinct sensations. This shows 
that sensations received by way of distinct and isolated 
nerve-fibres are (within certain limits at least) distinguish- 
able one from another. This fact we will call the local dis- 
tinctness of sensation. This separateness must be viewed 
as original and anterior to that spatial interpretation of 
points which, as we shall see, probably comes later. The 
physiological basis of such a primordial distinctness of sen- 
sation is to be looked for partly in the fact of the insulation 
of the several nerve-fibres, and partly also in certain differ- 
ences in the whole nerve-process which appear (in the case 
of the skin at least) to characterise stimulation of different 
points of a sensitive surface. 

Extensive magnitude and local distinctness of sensation 
are only found in a definite and precise form in the case of 
two senses, touch and sight. We do not appreciate extent 
or distinctness of points with any degree of clearness in 
the case of the organic sensations, the sensations of taste 
and smell, or even those of hearing. The probable reason 
for this seems to be that in the case of touch and sight we 
have special physiological arrangements which are wanting 
in the case of the other senses. These consist in the ex- 
istence of a spread-out sensitive surface supplied by a sys- 
tem of isolated nerve-fibres arranged in a mosaic-like order, 
and so capable of being separately stimulated by properly- 
placed stimuli. The skin and the retina of the eye are 
the most perfect examples of such a surface. 

Duration : Protensive Magnitude. One other aspect 
of sensation may be just mentioned, viz., duration or, as 
Hamilton has called it, protensive magnitude. Every sen- 
sation has a certain duration, being either momentary or 
persistent for an appreciable time. This duration consti- 
tutes a third dimension or direction of quantitative varia- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



53 



tion in addition to intensity and extensity. That is to say, 
we may obtain more or less of a sensation in three ways by 
altering (a) the intensity, (b) the extensity or spread, or (c) 
the duration. 

While, however, all sensations (as indeed all psychical 
states) exhibit this aspect of duration, they do not exhibit 
it with the same degree of precision or definiteness. Thus 
some sensations, as for example those of taste and smell, 
are less sharply defined in respect of their termination, 
and probably also of their commencement, than the sensa- 
tions of the higher senses. In the case of sensations of 
touch, hearing, and sight, we appreciate much more precise- 
ly the protensive length or time-magnitude. 

The Series of Senses: Taste and Smell. 

Coming now to the senses in detail we see that they do 
not exhibit the same degree of definiteness or the same 
number of distinct presentative aspects or characters. We 
usually speak of taste and smell as the coarse or unrefined 
senses, because we cannot sharply discriminate their sensa- 
tions, whereas hearing and sight are called highly-refined 
senses for an opposite reason. By attending merely to the 
number and fineness of the presentative differences we may 
arrange the senses in the following ascending order : taste, 
smell, touch, hearing, sight. 

A detailed account of the senses, including, as it must 
do, a description of the peculiar physiological structures 
involved, would be impossible here. For this the reader 
can be referred to one of the easily-accessible text-books 
in Physiology or Physiological Psychology. We must 
content ourselves with a brief re'sumt of the psychical ele- 
ments. 

Sense of Taste. The sense of taste has its own 
specialised nerve (gustatory nerve) and end-organ (the 
gustatory flasks or buds contained in certain papilla), which 
last has its special seat on a particular posterior area of the 
tongue and the soft palate. The proper stimulus to the 
organ of taste (sapid substance) is in every case one of 



54 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



the chemical substances known as crystalloids, which are 
either liquid or soluble in the mouth. This fact suggests 
that the immediate excitant of the gustatory end-organ is a 
chemical process. Hence taste is commonly spoken of as 
a chemical sense.* 

The sensations of taste must be carefully distinguished 
from other sensations which are wont to accompany them. 

In the first place, then, true sensations of taste are com- 
monly accompanied by and confused with organic sensations 
resulting from the stimulation of the nerve-fibres ending in 
the alimentary canal or oesophagus. Thus the sensations 
of relish and disrelish are not pure sensations of taste, but 
partly organic. 

In the second place, sensations of taste must be distin- 
guished from those of touch. The tongue is supplied by 
nerve-fibres and end-organs of touch proper, and the tip 
of the tongue is indeed finally discriminative of tactile 
stimuli. When we take food, whether solid or liquid, into 
the mouth, we obtain along with sensations of taste proper 
tactual sensations (including thermal), by which we know 
the size, shape, softness, grittiness, and temperature of the 
substance. 

Lastly, sensations of taste mingle with, and are not easily 
distinguished from, those of smell. This is due to the 
proximity of the organs, and to the fact that many sapid 
substances give off odorous particles. The impairment of 
the sense of smell by a cold brings home to us how much 
sensations of flavour owe to the sister sense. 

The common classification of sensations of taste proper 
is into four varieties, viz., sweet, bitter, salt, and sour. This 
classification is not, however, universally accepted, some 
(as Wundt) adding alkaline and metallic, while others (as 
Valentin) would reduce the number to two, sweet and bit- 
ter. This shows that tastes do not lend themselves to a 
simple mode of classification. 

This short account of the sense may suffice to show 

* Other stimuli, as electrical and possibly also mechanical pressure, are 
capable of calling forth the reaction of a gustatory sensation. 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



55 



that it has a very limited value as a knowledge-giving 
sense. The position of the organ at the entrance of the 
alimentary canal, and the fact that only a certain number 
of substances, and these only under definite conditions, are 
sapid, suggest that the original and main function of the 
sense is to act as a kind of sentinel, testing beforehand the 
suitability of substances to be taken into the system of 
nutriment. By our artificial habits of life the range of sen- 
sation has been materially extended, but this has been 
done mainly in the interests not of knowledge but of enjoy- 
ment. It is only in restricted lines of observation, as 
chemical investigation, that this sense becomes an impor- 
tant aid in the discrimination and recognition of objects. 

Sense of Smell. The sensations of smell, though apt, 
as we have seen, to be confused with those of taste, are in 
general sufficiently marked off from other sensations. This 
differentiation is connected with the peculiarity of the or- 
gan involved. The end-organ in which the olfactory nerve 
terminates, and which is situated in a certain region of the 
nasal passage (regie olfactoria), consists of certain fine ap- 
pendages that are acted upon in a way not yet fully under- 
stood by the odorous particles or effluvia borne thither by the 
current of air in the act of inspiration. Only such sub- 
stances are odorous as exist in a gaseous form or are va- 
porisable under given conditions of temperature. The 
process of stimulation, being connected with the entering 
of the current of air, is intensified by a voluntary augmen- 
tation of the inspiration, as in sniffing. 

As in the case of sensations of taste we have to mark off 
those of smell from others with which they are apt to be 
confused. Thus olfactory sensations are distinct from 
those organic sensations which are given by fresh or stuffy 
air, and which involve the nerves terminating in the respira- 
tory cavity. Again, olfactory sensations must be distin- 
guished from those mixed sensations which involve elements 
of tactual and common sensation, as for example those 
obtained by sniffing ammonia, snuff, and so forth. 

The qualitative variety of odours seems to be far 



56 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



greater than that of tastes ; yet the detection and classifi- 
cation of the elementary sensations is even more difficult 
here than in the case of the latter. Common language 
contains no words such as sweet, bitter, sour, which point 
to certain palpable distinctions of sensation answering to 
widely-distributed qualities in things. Such verbal distinc- 
tions as are found, as 'fragrant,' point to the concomitant 
effect of feeling. For the rest we only name sensations of 
smell by connecting them with particular objects or sub- 
stances, as the rose, the lilac, the sea, sulphuretted hydro- 
gen, and so forth. 

The organ of smell occupies a position at the entrance 
of the respiratory cavity analogous to that of the organ of 
taste at the entrance of the alimentary cavity. And the 
original function of the sense may well have been that of a 
judge as to the quality of the air inspired as fitted or un- 
fitted for the respiratory organ. This function has, how- 
ever, in all the higher animals become a subordinate one. 
As we may see in the case of some of the lower animals, 
notably the dog, a fine olfactory sense may become an im- 
portant means of discriminating and identifying objects. 
In the case of man this knowledge-giving use of smell is 
greatly limited owing to the dulness of the sense; which 
dulness again is connected with the higher development of 
other senses, more particularly touch. Hence it is only a 
comparatively small number of objects and substances that 
we commonly recognise through the sense of smell. And 
of these again, it is more particularly those that produce a 
sensation of smell with a strongly-marked adjunct of 
agreeable or disagreeable feeling, as certain flowers, garlic, 
common gas, etc., which come to be customarily recognised 
and described by means of their characteristic odour. 

Sense of Touch. 

General Nature of Tactual Sense. The sense of 
touch, which has for its main element sensibility to pressure, 
from its higher degrees to bare contact, is in some respects 
the least specialised of the special senses. It has for its 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



57 



end-organ no definitely circumscribed area of the peripheral 
surface as the retina. All parts of the skin are sensitive 
to pressure and give us corresponding sensations. Hence 
touch has been regarded by some as the fundamental mode 
of sensibility out of which the more specialised kinds have 
been differentiated. 

In the case of human touch, however, we have to do 
with a highly-specialised form of this sensibility which is to 
be found definitely localised in certain regions of the skin, 
and particularly the more mobile organs, as the hand and 
pre-eminently the finger-tips. This speciality of function 
is connected with the presence in these parts of certain 
specialised structures or end-organs (the tactile corpuscles) 
which are compressed or made to expand as a body presses 
on the skin or is drawn over it, or, which amounts to the same 
thing, as the skin is pressed against or drawn over the body. 

Tactual sensations are to be carefully distinguished 
from common sensations which are apt to combine with 
them. Sensations of tickling illustrate the tendency of the 
two to coalesce. In the experience of being tickled there 
is a certain element of true tactual sensation, that of gentle 
contact, which is rapidly intermittent and which commonly 
shifts from one point of the skin to adjacent points. But 
the whole effect with its large element of feeling involves 
the action of the nerves of common sensation as well. 

The fineness of the tactual sensibility proper is seen in 
the estimation of degrees of pressure. 

It is found by experiment, first of all, that different 
parts of the skin are very unequal in respect of absolute 
sensibility, or capability of reaction on very weak stimuli. 
Goldscheider's researches go to show that true sensations 
of pressure are only obtained at certain minute spots 
("pressure spots "), and that the degree of sensibility in 
different cutaneous areas varies directly with the number 
or closeness of these spots. 

The second and more important mode of tactual sensi- 
bility is the discriminative sensibility to different degrees 
of pressure. Here definite results are difficult to obtain, 



58 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

owing to the fact that in ordinary cases where we estimate 
higher degrees of pressure, as in lifting a weight, the tact- 
ual sensibility is greatly assisted by the muscular sensa- 
tions, to be spoken of presently. By supporting the arm 
or other part experimented on, and then successively apply- 
ing different degrees of pressure, it has been found possible 
to some extent to measure the discriminative tactual sen- 
sibility of different regions of the skin. Among the results 
obtained is that the discrimination of pressure pure and 
simple is much less acute than when the muscular sensations 
co-operate. The inequalities at different dermal regions, 
as measured by the smallest difference discernible, corre- 
spond to some extent at least to known variations of tactual 
sensibility. 

Touch, as already pointed out, is characterised by a fine 
appreciation of extensive magnitude, and of local distinctness of 
sensation. The discriminative sensibility to separateness 
of point or locality, which is measured by the smallness 
of the distance between two points, say those of a pair of 
compasses, just distinguishable as two, is found by the 
classical experiments of Weber, aided by those of more re- 
cent investigators, to vary considerably at different parts. 
In general, it is finest in those regions, as the fingers and 
lips, which are known by every-day observation to have 
high tactual sensibility. It is much finer in the mobile 
parts, hands, feet, and lips, than in the comparatively fixed 
parts (the trunk). It is about twice as fine on the anterior as 
on the posterior surface of the fingers. In the former the 
minimum distance between the points sinks as low as - 2 of a 
millimetre (about -oo8 of an inch). It falls off as we go 
from the extremities (fingers or toes) towards the trunk. 
This distinguishability of points is related to the frequency 
or closeness of packing of the nerve-fibres, but the exact 
nature of this relation is not understood.* 

* Weber supposed that the area of the skin might be divided into sen- 
sation-centres, each of which, however, contains a number of nerve-fibres. 
Goldscheider suggests that the discrimination of two points is only possible 
when they touch two distinct ' pressure spots.' 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



59 



Differences of quality among sensations of touch are less 
numerous than those among sensations of smell. The 
most important, next to that of sensations of pressure and 
of heat and cold, are those of soft and hard, and rough 
and smooth ; and in the case of these we have in part, if 
not altogether, to do with differences of intensity and of 
local character. Thus the contrast between hard and soft, 
as known purely by touch, is simply that between great 
and little pressure. It is obvious moreover, that the terms 
are relative; the same object being called hard or soft 
in relation to different objects. The difference between 
smooth and rough, so far as dependent on pure touch 
apart from movement, is connected with continuity and 
uniformity of pressure at all points of the sensitive surface 
in the one case, and discontinuity and inequality in the 
other. 

Thermal Sensations. The sensations of hot and 
cold obtained by contact of different parts of the skin with 
bodies of various temperatures constitute a second main 
group of sensations usually included under the sense of 
touch. Sensations of heat and cold may arise in any part 
of the organism, and are in this respect closely allied to 
common sensations. More particularly they are experi- 
enced through variations in the temperature of the skin. 
In certain dermal areas they are finely distinguishable in 
their degree, and in this respect they constitute, like the 
finer tactual sense, a specialised mode of sensibility. Re- 
cent research shows that thermal sensibility is confined to 
certain ' spots ' which are unequally distributed over the 
skin, but do not coincide with the pressure spots, and that 
some of these are sensitive only to heat, others only to 
cold. 

The sensations of temperature received by way of con- 
tact of bodies with the skin present a clearly-marked con- 
trast of quality, viz., that of hot and cold. As is well 
known, the sensations of extreme heat and extreme cold 
tend to approach one another. Between these extremes 
many degrees of hot and cold are distinguishable. In this 



60 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

way we get a scale of thermal sensations analogous to that 
of rough and smooth, and hard and soft, with a neutral or 
indifferent point, known as the zero-point, in the median 
region of the scale, which appears to be related to the nor- 
mal temperature of the part of the skin stimulated. 

The discrimination of temperature, like that of pressure, 
varies considerably at different parts of the skin. These 
variations do not run parallel with those of sensibility to 
pressure. Since, moreover, the normal temperature of the 
skin varies at different parts, e.g., at the finger-tips and the 
inside of the mouth, the zero-point is not the same for all 
dermal areas. 

The sensations of hot and cold are known to be highly 
subjective or relative. Thus they vary with the changing 
temperature of the part affected. Weber showed that if the 
hand be held in water of the temperature 54*5° Fahr. and 
then plunged in water 64-4°, it will feel this last to be hot, 
whereas if the hand had been put into the second at the 
outset it would have felt it to be cold. 

Value of Sense of Touch. Our examination into 
the sensations of touch shows us that this sense is capable 
of yielding us a variety of finely-graduated differences. In 
spite of the few qualitative dissimilarities, as compared with 
those of the higher senses, hearing and sight, it furnishes 
us with an exact knowledge of some of the more important 
qualities of bodies. This result depends first of all on its 
fine discrimination of degrees of pressure, and then on its 
clear separation of local characters. Finally, it may be ob- 
served that owing to the sharp definition of tactual sensa- 
tion with respect to commencement and termination we 
may compare them in rapid succession, as we are unable to 
do in the case of sensations of taste and smell. This 
knowledge-giving value of touch is further increased by 
the constant co-operation with tactual sensations proper of 
the muscular sensations to be spoken of presently. There 
is little wonder, then, that from the time of Aristotle down- 
ward touch has been regarded as a sense of the first impor- 
tance, and that more than one writer should have attributed 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 6l 

man's intellectual superiority over the lower animals in no 
small measure to his possession in the hand of so delicate 
and serviceable a tactile organ. 

Hearing. 

Characteristics of Auditory Sensations. Hearing 
and sight are universally recognised as the highest senses. 
Here we see for the first time a perfectly differentiated 
complex organ. The peculiar form of the stimulus (air or 
ether vibrations) allows of the action of bodies on each of 
these organs at considerable distances. And just as they 
stand alone in respect of the delicacy and complexity of 
the. physical apparatus involved, so they are marked off 
from the other senses by the rich and delicately graduated 
variety of their sensations. 

The peripheral organ, the ear, consists of the end-organ 
proper, that is, the special structures in which the nerve- 
filaments terminate, and a mechanical apparatus for collect- 
ing and bringing to bear on these the air vibrations which 
form the stimulus. 

Sensations of sound exhibit numerous and definite dif- 
ferences of intensity. In the case of sounds of moderate in- 
tensity we can recognise a distinction of loudness or 
strength according as the stimulus increases by the addi- 
tion of about one-third of its strength (amplitude of wave). 

The superiority of hearing to the senses already consid- 
ered is most plainly evident in respect of the qualitative dif- 
ferences of the sensations. The ear presents to us a rich 
variety of sensuous quality. All ordinary sounds yield 
complex sensations; and the ear, unlike the senses of taste 
and smell, is capable of easily distinguishing (within certain 
limits) the several constituent parts of its complex impres- 
sions. This power of analysis, aided by objective research, 
enables us to classify the sensations of sound with some- 
thing like completeness. 

The first division of sounds is into musical sounds or 
tones and non-musical sounds or noises. This distinction 
is known to be connected with a clearly-marked difference 



62 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

in the mode of stimulation. Musical sounds depend on 
regular or periodic vibrations, noises on irregular or non- 
periodic vibrations. Whether, in addition to this, different 
peripheral structures are involved in the distinction, is not 
quite certain. 

(a) Musical Sensations. The most important charac- 
teristic of a tone is what we call Pitch or height. Every 
musical sound or tone has its particular pitch, without 
which it would cease to be musical. Differences of pitch 
constitute the most important qualitative differences among 
musical sensations. There are as many distinct varieties 
of musical sensation or tones as there are distinguishable 
pitches or heights. These differences are known to depend 
on the rate of vibration of the medium (the atmosphere). 
A tone of high pitch corresponds to a rapid series of vibra- 
tions, one of low pitch to a slow series. Such differences 
in the external stimulus may be supposed to cause corre- 
sponding differences in the nervous excitations involved.* 

Although our modern scale recognises only discrete 
tones separated by at least a semitone, the ear can distin- 
guish much finer differences of pitch. The scale of pitch 
is analogous to that of intensity in that there is a lower and 
a higher extreme beyond which any further slowing or 
quickening of the vibrations results in the loss of all dis- 
tinct impression of pitch, and further in that within these 
extremes the least noticeable change of pitch-quality cor- 
responds roughly with one and the same proportionate 
increase or decrease of the stimulus in respect of ra- 
pidity. f 

Individuals are known to vary greatly in their discrimi- 
nation of pitch, and it is this which determines the musical 
capacity of the individual. Some persons are called ' note- 

* There is some ground for supposing that sensibility to tone or pitch 
is connected with a special system of end-organs, viz., the fibres in the 
basilar membrane of the cochlea of the ear. These seem to be so con- 
structed as to respond to series of vibrations of unequal rapidity. 

f The range of pitch, which varies, especially at the upper extreme, with 
different individuals, extends from about 16 to 40,000 vibrations per second. 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



6 3 



deaf ' because they do not distinguish tones even when sepa- 
rated by a semitone interval and more. In contrast to these 
some who have a fine musical ear can detect so slight a dif- 
ference of pitch in certain parts of the scale as to be able 
to distinguish 200 tones in an octave. 

In addition to this scale of pitch-quality, there are the 
differences known as timbre or ' clang-tint.' These are the 
qualitative differences in sensations of tone answering to 
differences in the instrument, as the peculiar ' colour ' of the 
tones of the piano, the violin, the human voice. These dif- 
ferences have been explained by Helmholtz as due to differ- 
ences in the mode of combination of the several elementary 
tones (' partial tones ') which together constitute what ap- 
pear to the untrained ear the simple tones, but are best de- 
scribed as the clangs, of musical instruments. 

Lastly, in considering musical sensations reference must 
be made to the important fact of Harmony or consonance 
and dissonance among tones. This is mainly a differ- 
ence of feeling, that is, of an agreeable and disagreeable 
effect. Yet there is a difference of presentative character 
involved. In the case of consonant and dissonant tone- 
groups alike the ear can much more readily distinguish the 
constituent tones than in the case of single clangs. Hence 
the effect is commonly recognised as a complex sensation. 
It may be added that dissonance involves, as a peculiar 
qualitative element, a rough grating character the absence 
of which gives the smoothness to a musical harmony. 

Non-musical Sensations: (b) Noises. In addition 
to this wide range of musical sensation the ear distinguishes 
a vast number of non-musical sounds, the characteristic 
' noises ' of different substances, such as the roar of the sea, 
the rustling of leaves, and the crack of a whip. The pecul- 
iar character of a noise depends on a number of variable 
circumstances. One of these is the extent and number of 
dissimilar stimuli acting on the organ, as in the effect of the 
murmur of the sea or of a crowd. Again, the mode of 
variation of the sound from moment to moment is often 
characteristic, as in the noise of a saw or of a passing vehi- 



6 4 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



cle. But the precise nature or composition of noises is still 
but imperfectly understood. 

Among noises must be included the important group of 
sounds known as articulate or language sounds. The pe- 
culiar character of a k or s sound is precisely analogous to 
that of a sound of which we commonly speak as a noise. 
The fact that language sounds are radically distinct from 
musical sounds is illustrated in the familiar observation 
that a person may have a good natural ear for the one 
without having a like discriminative sensibility for the 
other.* 

At the same time, tones and noises are not absolutely 
distinct. Just as ordinary clangs, say those of a violin, 
have an accompaniment of noise, so most noises involve 
elements of tone, and owe a part of their character to this 
circumstance (e.g., the roar of the sea, or of a crowd). This 
remark applies, among others, to articulate sounds. The 
researches of Helmholtz go to show that the several vowel 
sounds are characterised by peculiarities of timbre and thus 
approximate to true musical sounds. 

Value of Sense of Hearing. Enough has been said 
to show the high degree of refinement characterising the 
sense of hearing. The delicate and far-reaching discrimina- 
tion of quality just illustrated is, moreover, as we shall 
presently see, aided by an exceptionally fine discrimination 
of duration, which allows of a nice discrimination of sounds 
in rapid succession. In this way we are able through the 
sense of hearing to acquire a good deal of exact informa- 
tion, as well as a considerable amount of refined pleasure. 
The delight of music sums up the chief part of the latter. 
The former is most strikingly illustrated in the wide range 
of knowledge derived by way of that system of articulate 
sounds known as language. 

As a set off against these advantages, it must be borne 
in mind that hearing is sadly lacking in respect of extensity 

* This suggests that noises and musical sounds involve a separate ter- 
minal apparatus (end-organs) in the ear, a conclusion which is probable on 
other grounds. 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 65 

and distinctness of points. Even if sensations of sound 
have extensity proper (a disputed point) the appreciation 
of this is very imperfect. The very structure of the organ 
and the way in which the stimulus is applied appear to ex- 
clude a definite discrimination of extensity and number of 
points such as we find in the case of touch and sight. 

Sight. 

Characteristics of Visual Sense. The sense of Sight 
is by common consent allowed the highest place in the 
scale of the senses. The stimulus, ether vibrations, greatly 
exceeds in point of subtlety the stimuli which (under nor- 
mal circumstances) operate in the case of the other sense- 
organs. It is owing to the nature of this stimulus, more- 
over, that the sense of sight is capable of being acted upon 
by objects at enormous distances, as the heavenly bodies. 
Conformably to this subtlety of the stimulus, we find that 
the structure of the eye appears to exhibit a yet greater 
delicacy than the organ of hearing. This applies both to 
the end-organ itself, the retina with its several layers, more 
especially the finely-moulded structures, the rods and cones, 
in which the fibrils of the optic nerve probably terminate, 
and also to the optical apparatus, the lens, and other con- 
tents of the eye-ball, by means of which the luminous stimu- 
lus is brought to bear on these. 

The scale of intensity in the case of visual sensations is 
obviously a very extended one. It answers to all distin- 
guishable degrees of luminosity, from the brightest self- 
luminous bodies which we are capable of looking at with- 
out temporary blinding down to the objects which reflect a 
minimum of light, and are known as black. The discrim- 
ination at its best in the medium parts of the scale answers 
to a change of from about T -J-gth to -j-^th in the strength 
of the stimulus. The eye's capability of recognising at a 
glance the particular nature of an object, as well as of dis- 
criminating a multitude of unlike objects in a scene, rests 
in part on this delicate discriminative sensibility to degrees 
of light. 
5 



66 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Colour-Sensations. The stimulus of the eye, like 
that of the ear, varies according to the rapidity of its vibra- 
tions. The analysis of solar light into its constituent rays 
in what is known as the prismatic spectrum separates the 
different kind of rays, that is to say, those of different rates 
of oscillation. The red rays at one end of the spectrum 
are the slowest, making about 456 billion of vibrations per 
second, whereas the violet rays at the other extremity make 
about 667 billions. These variations in the rapidity of the 
vibrations occasion (within certain limits) differences in the 
quality of the resulting sensations. In this way we obtain 
a scale of chromatic quality resembling that of pitch in the 
case of musical sensations. The two scales resemble one 
another further in being series of gradual changes, and in 
the limitations of the specific qualitative effect at each ex- 
tremity (violet and red rays). 

While there are these points of analogy between the scale of colour- 
sensations and of pitch-sensations, the two differ in important respects. 
To begin with, the quality of the colour-sensations does not change con- 
tinuously in exact correspondence with the changes of the stimulus, as in 
the case of tone-sensations. In some parts of the spectrum considerable 
changes in the rate of vibration occur without producing any appreciable 
effect on the sensation. Hence we cannot speak of a colour-continuum in 
precisely the same sense as we speak of the tone-continuum. Again, the 
series of colour impressions, instead of assuming the form of a straight line 
rather assumes the form of a bent or curved line. The extremities red and 
violet seem to approach one another. Indeed, if the extreme rays are com- 
bined we have a sensation, that of purple, intermediate between the ter- 
minal sensations red and violet. 

In addition to this series of colour-sensations we have 
for any given colour a scale of purity or saturation. A red 
or a green, for example, may be more or less whitish, or 
on the other hand pure as a red ox as a green; so that any 
colour will present a series of changes according as we 
vary the proportion of white light to the special kind of 
light. In certain cases a difference in the degree of satu- 
ration is commonly spoken of as a difference of colour. 
Thus what we call pink is simply a whitish modification of 
a purple. 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 6j 

The several kinds of rays when combined, as in sun- 
light, produce the impression white. The same sensation 
may result from combining different pairs of the several 
varieties of light in certain proportions. Such pairs of rays, 
and the accompanying sensations of colour, are spoken of 
as complementary one to another. Thus blue and yellow, 
purplish red and green, are complementary. If we add 
purple to the spectrum series and represent this by a circle, 
we find that any two kinds of light standing opposite to 
one another or at the extremities of one diameter are thus 
complementary. Such complementary colours are com- 
monly said to go well or to harmonise well with one an- 
other. 

The many and intricate phenomena of colour-sensations 
have given rise to various physiological hypotheses re- 
specting the structure and mode of activity of the retina. 
Among these the most popular is known as the Young- 
Helmholtz theory. According to this the nervous elements 
of the retina consist of three kinds of fibre. These are 
acted upon more especially by the red, the green, and the 
blue or violet rays respectively. These three colours would 
thus be in a peculiar sense elementary colour-sensations, 
while other colours, as purple, bluish green, together with 
white, would be composite. This theory is, however, not 
universally accepted.* 

In addition to these numerous differences of intensity 
and quality, the sensations of sight are characterised by a 
fi?ie discrimination of points and of extensive magnitude. And 
it is this circumstance, together with another to be spoken 
of presently, which gives sight so distinct a superiority to 
hearing as an intellectual or knowledge-giving sense. Thus 
it is through the fine distinctions in number of points and 
extent of impression that we are able to estimate so nicely 
by the retina the precise form and the magnitude of a visi- 

* Thus Hering would propose four fundamental colour-sensations, viz., 
green and red, blue and yellow, to which he adds black and white, each of 
these pairs being supposed to correspond to two opposite functions of the 
same visual substance. 



68 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ble object. The fineness of this discrimination is, like that 
of colour-discrimination, greatest in the central region, the 
area of perfect vision, and falls off towards the periphery. 

Movement and Muscular Sense. 

Definition of Muscular Sense. Sensations are sup- 
plied us, not only by way of the familiar sense-organs when 
stimulated by external forces, but also by our own muscu- 
lar actions. Such actions are important elements in cona- 
tion, and as such will have to be spoken of by-and-by. 
Here we are concerned with them merely as contributing 
presentative elements, analogous to those of tone, colour, 
etc., which enter into our intellective processes. 

Muscular sensations may be defined as those character- 
istic modes of consciousness which are specially connected 
with the stimulation and the contraction of the voluntary 
muscles, as those of the limbs, the eyes, the vocal organ. 
If, for example, I flex my arm or turn my eyes to the right, 
or exert my vocal and respiratory organ in the act of shout- 
ing, I have a peculiar sensational consciousness by means 
of which, independently of any mediately resulting changes 
of tactile, visual, or auditory sensation, I know that I am 
" energising " and also something respecting the special 
character of this exertion. Muscular sensations are thus, 
though closely conjoined with sensations of the special 
senses, more particularly those of touch and of sight, sen- 
sations siti generis. They are marked off from other sensa- 
tions as active from passive states. 

These sensations, though in the adult consciousness ap- 
parently simple, are in reality highly complex. They prob- 
ably consist in part of the immediate psychical concomi- 
tants of the central initial stage of the efferent nervous pro- 
cess, or process of motor innervation, which have been called 
sensations or less properly ' feelings ' of innervation. At 
the same time, it is now certainly known that these sensa- 
tions of innervation are by no means the only factor in the 
muscular sense. A large part of our muscular experience, 
as when we move a limb, is made up of the sensational re- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



69 



suits of afferefit nervous processes. That is to say, our 
muscular, like our other sensations, are, in all normal cases, 
partly the product of a stimulation of peripheral organs, as 
the tendons, the joints, the skin (which is stretched and 
folded by movement), and possibly the muscles themselves, 
when this is transmitted to the brain. At the same time, 
the precise part played by these factors in the muscular 
sense is still a matter of uncertainty.* 

Varieties of Muscular Sensations. The action of 
the voluntary muscles gives rise to a considerable variety 
of sensational experiences. To begin with, it is evident 
that since our (voluntary) muscular system, unlike a special 
sense-organ, extends over the whole area of the body and 
certain of its cavities, and is made up of very unlike organs 
or structures, differences of peripheral structure will pro- 
duce differences in the psychical concomitant. A difference 
of calibre, as between the muscles of the leg and of the 
fingers, will affect the quantity of the muscular sensation, 
making it more or less massive or extensive ; not only so, 
difference in the attachments of the muscles and adjacent 
tissues will modify the quality of the accompanying sensa- 
tion in various ways. Thus the psychical correlative of the 
action of the muscles of a limb will be "coloured" by the 
articular sensations connected with the pressure of the 
joint-surfaces, also with the tension of the skin, elements 
which are wholly or in part wanting in the case of the ocu- 
lar muscles. 

Another class of differences in our muscular experience 
is connected with dissimilarities in the mode of action of 
the muscles engaged. Here we may confine ourselves to 
those groups of muscles which are of chief importance as a 
source of knowledge, viz., those by which our limbs are 
moved. 

* Some, as Dr. Bain, hold that they are essentially central in origin, 
being the accompaniment of the outgoing efferent process of motor innerva- 
tion. The more recent view, as held by W. James and others, is that they 
are wholly peripheral in their origin. It seems impossible as yet to decide 
between these contending views. 



7o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



In considering these varieties of muscular experience 
we may conveniently set out with the comparatively simple 
experience answering to a momentary position of a limb. 
We may then consider the more prolonged experience of 
movement itself, and finally take up the complicated case 
which arises when movement is impeded by the presence of 
an obstacle. Thus we have (i) Muscular Experience with- 
out Movement : Sensations of Position ; (2) Experience of 
Movement ; and (3) Experience of Impeded Movement. 

(a) Experience without Movement : Sensations of 
Position. The experience answering to a particular posi- 
tion of the limb may arise either passively or actively. A 
person may support my outstretched arm, or I may myself 
hold it out. The former situation, position passively in- 
duced, is obviously the exceptional one, at least in later 
life. It is complicated by the skin-sensations of pressure, 
while, on the other hand, it does not involve the character- 
istic action of the muscles as made known in active con- 
sciousness or sense of exertion. We may then dismiss this 
case, and confine our attention to the normal experience of 
actively-induced position. It follows from what has been 
said respecting the probable constituents of the muscular 
sense that every separate position of a limb, say the arm, 
will have its own distinguishing psychical concomitants 
These will consist in part of central constituents, for the 
relative amounts of innervation in the motor organs en- 
gaged, that is to say, the groups of muscles together with 
their antagonists which keep the limb in a particular posi- 
tion, will vary with that position, e. g., holding the arm 
horizontally, vertically. The chief distinguishing feature 
will, however, be the peripheral factor, viz., the peculiar sen- 
sations arising from the relative position and pressure of 
the joint-surface, as also those connected with the peculiar 
state of tension and compression of tendons, adjacent skin, 
and possibly the muscular fibres themselves. 

(b) Experience of Movement. In the case of move- 
ment we have, it is evident, a prolonged experience, made 
up of a continuous change or succession of sensational ac- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



71 



companiments. This feature of change is essential and 
characteristic. Movement is not merely that by which we 
bring about indirectly changes in our surroundings, e. g., 
the visible scene, it is itself an experience of change. It is 
reasonable to suppose that the delicacy of our sense of 
movement, which in the case of certain movements, e. g., 
those of the eyes, is very great, depends on the fineness 
of our discrimination for these successive sensational differ- 
ences. 

In considering these experiences of movement it is im- 
portant to distinguish them, so far as we are able, from our 
perception of movement as occurring in space, which, as we 
shall see, comes later. These primordial experiences of 
movement are unattended with any clear consciousness of 
spatial relation, such as definite position of the limb at a 
particular point of space, and change of the position in a 
given direction. Indeed, all clear space consciousness is 
developed as the result of these first motor experiences. 

In order to explain the genesis of these perceptions of 
space, viz., position, distance, etc., by help of this motor ex- 
perience, it seems necessary to assume two presentative 
characters in this experience : (a) that answering to direc- 
tion of movement, and (b) that answering to range of move- 
ment. It may be assumed that the action of one group of 
muscles will differ in its psychical concomitant from that 
of another. In this way the movement of the right arm 
and of the left would affect our consciousness differently. 
Movements of the same arm in different directions would, 
for a similar reason, have different psychical concomitants. 
Thus the flexing and extending of the fore-arm would dif- 
fer in consequence of the difference in the order of succes- 
sion of the several groups of sensations attending the chang- 
ing positions of the limb. 

In the second place, all movements will differ on their 
conscious side according to other characters which have to 
do with their range or extent. To begin with, then, the mo- 
tor experience, like passive sensation, varies according to 
its duration. This is an important circumstance, for, as we 



72 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



shall see, it is partly by help of this feature of duration that 
we come to know how much movement we have carried out 
in any given case. 

Again, our motor experience varies according to the ve- 
locity of the movement. Thus we have one kind of muscu- 
lar experience in moving the arm or the eye slowly, another 
in moving it rapidly. This sense of velocity is, it is mani- 
fest, connected with the rapidity with which the successive 
phases of the movement on their conscious side succeed one 
another. 

Duration and velocity would in themselves constitute 
sufficient sense-data for reaching a perception of range or 
extent of movement. In addition to duration and rapidity 
of change there are other data for forming a perception of 
distance in the scale of sensational differences answering to 
successive stages of a movement. Thus a flexing move- 
ment of the arm carried to the extreme point is accompanied 
by characteristic cutaneous and other constituents of the 
muscular sensations which would serve as signs of range or 
amount of movement. 

A word in concluding this account of our sensations of 
movement on the difference between the active and the pas- 
sive experience. The latter is illustrated when we have our 
arm flexed by another person. Here the characteristic of 
the active consciousness is wanting. There is no sense of 
exertion, such as attends our self-initiated movements, so 
that the movement is not regarded as our own. At the 
same time it is clearly a motor experience. The sensations 
connected with the altering positions of the joints and the 
skin are similar to those which attend active movement. It 
is possible, too, that sensations due to the contraction of 
the muscular fibres are also involved. Hence the explana- 
tion of the surprising fact recently brought to light by ex- 
periment that we can estimate the extent of a movement 
of the arm almost as well when this is passively, as when it 
is actively induced. 

(c) Experience of Impeded Movement : Sense of 
Resistance. The remaining variety of muscular experi- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 73 

ence is that which arises when our impulse to move is coun- 
teracted by some obstruction ; an experience which has 
been marked off as " dead strain " (Bain) and as conscious- 
ness of resistance. This experience may be given either by 
our own body, as in pressing the arm against the side, the 
chin against the chest, or by foreign objects. It is these 
last which are commonly thought of in connexion with ob- 
structed movement. As examples of this experience of 
resistance we may take pressing against a heavy body, 
supporting or lifting a weight, pulling or dragging an ob- 
ject. 

Here it is evident muscular sensations are complicated 
by ordinary tactile sensations, viz., sensations of pressure. 
The experience is, indeed, made up of a muscular and a 
tactile experience, the latter being dependent on and vary- 
ing in degree with the muscular exertion or strain. As we 
shall see by-and-by, it is by means of this complex experi- 
ence varied in different ways that we come to perceive the 
fundamental qualities of material things, viz., impenetra- 
bility in its various modes, hardness and softness, density 
and rarity, etc., as well as weight and inertia, i. e., immo- 
bility and momentum. 

Active Sense : Touching, Seeing, etc. The muscu- 
lar sense, though sharply distinguished from passive sen- 
sation in its character and mode of production, is always 
conjoined in our experience with such passive sensation. 
All sensory stimuli tend to excite some amount of muscular 
action, and it is probable that all our so-called " passive " 
sensations are in reality complicated by the concomitant 
of this muscular action. Moreover, since all our sense-or- 
gans are supplied with muscles by the action of which they 
are moved (wholly or in some of their parts), it follows that 
each class of special sensation will have a well-marked mo- 
tor concomitant. Thus the movements of the tongue enter 
into active tasting, those of the nostrils and respiratory or- 
gans into active smelling or sniffing, while certain muscles 
of the ear, and, to a larger extent, those of the head, co- 
operate in active hearing or listening. 



- 4 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

It is, however, in the case of the two most highly mobile 
sense-organs, those of touch and sight, that we see the 
co-operation of muscular action most plainly manifested. 
Touching and seeing or looking are pre-eminently active 
processes involving movements of the organs concerned, as 
stretching out the hand, running the fingers over a surface, 
directing the eyes to a point. This co-operation of mus- 
cular action with passive sensation is known as Active 
Sense. 

The service thus rendered by muscular action to the 
special senses is a complex one. In the first place, it is 
evident that the movements of a sense-organ result in an 
increased number or range of passive sensations. Just as the 
mobility of an insect's antennae enables it to have many 
more impressions of touch than it would have if the organs 
were fixed, so the mobility of the human arm, hand, and 
fingers greatly extends the range of our tactile impressions. 
By such movements we are able to bring the most sensitive 
part of the organ, e. g., the finger tips, the area of perfect 
vision on the retina, to bear on the several portions of a 
wide area of objects. 

A second advantage closely connected with this is the 
introduction of change of impression. The importance of 
this will appear when we consider the bearing of change 
or contrast on the distinctness of our sensations. Move- 
ment introduces change in more ways than one. Thus 
when a person moves his eye over the objects constituting 
his field of vision, the shifting of the several luminous 
stimuli to new retinal elements serves to strengthen their 
effect, that is, to render the sensations more vivid and impress- 
ive than they would be if the eye were fixed. Of still greater 
importance is the change which is secured by means of 
rapid movement between successive impressions received 
by way of the most sensitive part of the organ. It is by 
transferring the fingers rapidly from one surface to another 
(<?. g., from a rough to a smooth, from a cold to a warm) 
that the corresponding qualities are nicely distinguished. 
Similarly, it is by passing the eye quickly from one colour 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



75 



to another, that the finer discrimination of colour is car- 
ried out. 

But this increase in the range and the comparability of 
our passive impressions is only one part of the gain result- 
ing from the mobility of the sense-organs. A third and no 
less important service rendered to the special senses by 
their muscular apparatus is the addition of the muscular ex- 
perience itself which accompanies the workings of this ap- 
paratus. This experience, as we shall see by-and-by, sup- 
plies the two senses of touch and sight with a specially 
complete means of ascertaining the position of objects in 
space ; and, further, enables touch to inform us of the fun- 
damental properties of material bodies. 

(b) Elements of Feeling. 

Primitive Affective Phenomena. In this general 
account of the elements of mind a brief reference must be 
made to the other two groups of elementary psychical phe- 
nomena, viz., feelings and movements regarded as active or 
conative phenomena. 

With respect to affective elements, that is to say, simple 
modes of agreeable and disagreeable feeling, it is evident 
that, like presentative elements of sensations, they are 
given as the immediate psychical concomitants of nervous 
stimulation, and are predetermined by the very structure 
of the child's nervous system. Thus we find them, under 
normal circumstances, experienced within the first weeks of 
life. They are, moreover, closely connected with presenta- 
tive elements or sensations. As examples of these affect- 
ive elements or Sense-feelings we may take the familiar 
pleasures and pains of the bodily or organic life, such as 
the recurring cravings and satisfactions of appetite, the 
feelings connected with changing temperature of the body, 
with digestion and indigestion, with obstruction and fur- 
therance of respiration, etc., with the exercise and fatigue 
of the muscular system, and, lastly, with the activities of 
the special senses, e. g., the sensations of sweet and bitter in 
taste, of smooth and rough in touch. A fuller investiga- 



j6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion of these sense-feelings and of their precise relation to 
the presentative elements will have to be made later on, 
after completing our account of the growth of mind on its 
intellectual side. 

(c) Active Elements : Primitive Movements. 

Primitive Conative Phenomena. In addition to 
sensations and the feelings which are so closely conjoined 
with these, we have as primordial psychical phenomena cer- 
tain active tendencies. The structure of the nervous sys- 
tem, as already set forth, prepares us for the fact that 
movement is proper to the child, and that it is from the first 
excited reflexly, that is, in response to sensory stimulation. 
We may instance the movements of the limbs, head, etc., 
in response to tactual, auditory, and other stimuli. These 
movements, as we shall see later, include those by help of 
which attention to sense-impressions, e. g., turning the eyes 
or head in the direction of an object, is effected. Certain 
primitive movements, moreover, may take their rise inde- 
pendently of sensory stimulation and through some process 
of immediate central excitation, as when a baby moves its 
limbs on waking.* As will be shown later, it is these move- 
ments, regarded as modes of active consciousness, which enable 
us to explain the growth of voluntary action. 

(d) Primitive Complex Arrangements. 

Primitive Conjunctions of Elements: Instinctive 
Dispositions. The original data of mental development 
include not merely certain elements but certain organically 
conditioned modes of comiexion among these. As an example 
of these we may take the complication of passive with mus- 
cular sensation, which will be more fully illustrated here- 
after, and which has its organic basis in the continuity of 
the sensory and motor tracts. There is some reason to 
suppose, further, that the conjunction of sensations belong- 
ing to disparate senses, e. g., those of touch and sight, which, 

* Cf. above p. 23, footnote. 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



77 



as we shall presently find, combine in our common percep- 
tion of objects, is aided to some extent by primitive nerv- 
ous arrangements which would favor the conjoint action 
of the corresponding cortical centres. 

In the regions of feeling and conation we shall find 
other examples of such primitive connexions. Thus in 
what is called an emotion we have a feeling prolonging it- 
self by secondary corporeal effects, as the palpitation which 
accompanies fear, which effects result from certain primi- 
tive nervous connexions. So, too, in early movements we 
find certain uniformities in all children alike, such as the 
alternations of forward and backward swing of the leg, 
which point to the existence of original dispositions grow- 
ing out of the congenital formation of the nerve-centres. 
Such arrangements are known as Instinctive Dispo- 
sitions. 

The Range of Instinct in Man. The precise range 
of such primitive psycho-physical arrangements in the case 
of man is very uncertain. It is a commonplace in biology 
that the higher we go in the zoological scale the less is the 
individual's life mechanically predetermined and the more 
subject to the educative agencies of his experience. Thus, 
in man the range of instinct is far narrower than in the 
lower animals. He cannot walk just after birth, as the 
calf can do; still less can he adjust movements to definite 
modifications of visual impression, as the newly-hatched 
chick is able to do. The human nervous system is emi- 
nently plastic, and the large bulk of its arrangements or 
connexions have to be formed in the course, and by the 
help, of individual experience and education. 

At the same time the advance of psychological analysis 
in recent years, aided by a more extended and more exact 
observation of the infant mind, has led to the conclusion 
that in man too the range of instinctive disposition is much 
more considerable than has been supposed. Even in the 
case of actions which have to be acquired and rendered 
perfect by a process of learning, the presence of a co-oper- 
ant instinctive factor is now recognised. Thus the child's 



78 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



use of his limbs, and of his vocal organ, is aided and expe- 
dited by such an instinctive or connate factor. 

All such instinctive or connate tendencies must be re- 
garded as given in organic connexion with the primitive 
constitution of the nervous centres. Here the psychologist 
has been wont to pause. To trace back a psychical phe- 
nomenon to a primordial instinct is, according to this view, 
to have reached the goal of psychological analysis. The 
modern doctrine of evolution, however, enables us to go 
further, and to trace out to some extent the antecedents of 
such a connate endowment. 

Origin of Instinct : Heredity. Connate or congeni- 
tal endowments are either specific, that is, common to all 
members of the human species, or variable and individual. 
Our various normal sensibilities are examples of the for- 
mer ; native individual character is an example of the latter. 

All congenital endowments arise in one of two ways : 
either as the result of those unknown influences which 
cause an individual to vary and differ from his ancestors, 
and which we call accidental variations ; or as the result of 
the conservative force of heredity. All specific endow- 
ments are of course due to the latter agency. The normal 
human brain, with its correlated psychical capacities, is like 
the human organism as a whole, the result of the hereditary 
transmission of specific or typical characters from progeni- 
tor to offspring. Individual endowments, e. g., a trick of 
manner, though in many cases referrible in the present state 
of our knowledge only to the causes which produce indi- 
vidual variation, are in numerous instances traceable also 
to the action of heredity. It has long been observed that 
peculiar physical and mental traits are apt to reappear in 
the successive generations of a family. 

Going back a step further, we may ask how the ancestor 
first came by the trait which he is thus able to transmit. 
If it was not always existent it must at some moment have 
been come by. There are two supposable ways in which 
it could have been attained : either it was the product of 
the ancestor's own experience, and so an "acquired char- 



PRIMITIVE PSYCHICAL ELEMENTS. 



79 



acter," or it was an original peculiarity of his organism or 
a congenital character. An example of the first would be 
the transmission from progenitor to offspring of special in- 
tellectual power or skill, acquired by long and exceptional 
training; an illustration of the latter would be the reap- 
pearance of a congenital eccentricity of bodily carriage or 
gesture. Although the possibility of the first is now dis- 
puted, it is probable that both factors concur in the pro- 
duction of what are commonly known as hereditary phe- 
nomena. 

According to Mr. Spencer and other evolutionists, trans- 
mission of acquired character is a chief factor in the evo- 
lution of the human race, since it secures the slight improve- 
ment of each successive generation by the inheritance of the 
fruit of the exertions of its predecessor. If we adopt this 
view we may argue that every sound child born in a civilised 
community brings with it into the world an outfit of instinct- 
ive tendencies or dispositions constituting the natural basis of the 
civilised and moralised man. These tendencies, being com- 
paratively late in their acquirement by the race, are neces- 
sarily inferior in strength to the deeper-seated and earlier- 
acquired impulses of the nature-man ; yet they form a valu- 
able support to all educational effort. 

Study of Primitive Elements and Education. The careful study 
of the elementary facts of our mental life has a bearing upon the proper 
training of the mind. More particularly, the educator of young children 
requires an exact knowledge of what is original in the mental constitution. 
Thus, before any intelligent attempt can be made to train and improve the 
senses, there must be a careful inquiry into the mechanism of the sense-or- 
gans, the modes in which they normally act, and the various orders of im- 
pression which they severally yield. One of the most signal services of 
psychology to elementary education has been the demonstration of the im- 
portant function of the Sense of Touch in the first years of human life. It 
is only as the teacher is able to distinguish carefully between the several 
constituents of a sense, e. g., sensibility to plurality of points or local dis- 
tinctness and muscular sensibility, in what is commonly called Touch, sen- 
sibility to musical and to articulate sounds in Hearing, that he will be able 
to divide the work of training that sense into its proper branches so as to 
secure methodical completeness. Lastly, it may be pointed out that a 
clear apprehension of the instinctive factor in child-nature, of the im- 



8q OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

pulses or dispositions which it brings into the world with it, is a prerequi- 
site of a wise and judicious training of the mind: and this whether the 
disposition is something good and capable of being made the ally of the 
educator, or, on the other hand, must be regarded as a force which opposes 
itself to educational effort, and must consequently be subdued and kept 
within certain bounds. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

A popular account of the several senses is given by Prof. Bernstein in 
his Five Senses of Man. A detailed exposition of sensation is contained in 
Prof. Bain's Compendium of Mental Science (book ii.). The results of more 
exact experimental research into the properties of sensation (psycho-physi- 
cal experiment) can be studied in Prof. Ladd's Elements of Physiological 
Psychology (pt. ii.), or his smaller Outlines, chaps, x.-xii. 



CHAPTER V. 

MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 

Psychical Elaboration. Having briefly surveyed the 
primitive elements of our psychical life, we proceed to 
study the processes by which these are elaborated into the 
several later products, ideas, thoughts, complex emotional 
states, etc. These processes of elaboration, though depend- 
ing on physical processes, viz., certain arrangements in the 
'psychical centres,' will have to be studied in the main on 
the subjective or conscious side. 

In analysing the process of psychical elaboration into its 
constituent processes we shall be chiefly concerned with 
intellectual development, or the elaboration of ideas, 
thoughts, etc., out of sensations. It is here that we can 
most plainly see into the nature of psychical elaboration ; 
and it maybe expected that the development of feeling and 
of volition will exhibit closely analogous processes. 

Attention as a Factor in Elaboration. The first 
and simplest phase of the process of elaboration is that re- 
action which serves to make a sensation a prominent and 
for the moment a supreme element in the stream of con- 
sciousness. This reaction is known as Attention. 

Now attention is a phenomenon of the active phase of 
mind, and as such can only be adequately studied under the 
head of conation. At the same time, seeing that it is pres- 
ent hi a measure in all fully-developed and distinct phe- 
nomena of conscious life, we must make a preliminary study 
of it at the outset. Here, however, we shall be concerned 
with the process mainly as a determining factor. The under- 
standing of it as itself detertnined, more particularly by feel- 
6 



82 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ing and conation, will only be possible after a study of 
these two domains of phenomena. 

Grades of Consciousness : the Sub-Conscious. 

In taking up the subject of attention we are confronted 
with a fact hitherto ignored, viz., that psychical phenomena pre- 
sent themselves in unequal degrees of definiteness or distinctness, 
or to express the fact otherwise, that they may be more or 
less prominently present in consciousness, or may take on 
more or less of the conscious attribute. This fact must 
now be set forth and illustrated. 

Our mental life consists of different levels or heights, 
according to the degree of consciousness involved. The 
lowest level is that of indistinct consciousness. This in- 
cludes all that mass of vague sensation, thought, impulse, 
and feeling which forms the dim background of our clear 
mental life. At any moment we may become aware of the 
presence of such vague elements, as bodily sensations, half- 
developed recollections, obscure and undefinable feelings. 
This dim twilight region may be marked off as that of the 
Sub-conscious. 

Unconscious Psychical Processes. The relations of consciousness 
to the sub-conscious have given rise to much discussion. According to 
some writers there is a region of unconscious mind, which does not enter 
into our conscious life in any measure* This region is apt to be identi- 
fied by physiologists with those central nervous processes which appear to 
have no distinct psychical concomitant. Thus it has been supposed that 
in addition to the actions of the lower nerve-centres certain actions of the 
psychical centres themselves ("brain-reflexes," "unconscious cerebration") 
may be so feeble or so rapid as not to induce any psychical concomitant. 
From a psychological point of view, however, a nervous process merely as 
such does not come within the view of the psychologist at all. It is only 
as it has some rudiment of sensation or other properly psychical phenomenon 
attending it that it concerns the student of mind. Now it is presumable 
that there are psychical equivalents of many nervous processes connected 
with the lower regions of life (vegetative functions) which never, or only 
under exceptional circumstances, distinctly emerge in consciousness. At 
the same time they enter into and colour our mental life taken in its 

* The term Sub-conscious is sometimes used for this region. It is, 
however, better applied, as above, to the outer and obscurer zone of con- 
sciousness. 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



83 



widest extent. Thus, as we shall see, the so-called organic sensations 
connected with the varying condition of the organs of digestion, circulation, 
and so forth, which we hardly ever make the object of a special and separate 
attention, are the main constituent in what we call tone of mind or ' spirits.' 
Again, some, as Sir W. Hamilton, urge from a strictly psychological 
point of view, that we must postulate " unconscious mental modifications," 
i. e., unconscious sensations, thoughts, and so forth, in order to account for 
the phenomena of distinct consciousness. Thus they say that we cannot 
explain the revival of a sense-presentation, e.g., a colour, under the form 
of an image without assuming the continued existence of the presentation 
as an unconscious mental state or content during the interval between its 
original occurrence and its revival. Such a supposition would doubtless 
aid us in explaining, by help of properly psychical processes, obscure facts 
of our mental life. But it is open to the grave objection that the idea of a 
mental phenomenon, existing out of all relation to the conscious life of the 
moment, is self-contradictory. This difficulty seems overcome in a meas- 
ure by saying that all psychical phenomena lying beyond the confines of 
clear consciousness are constituents of the vague consciousness or sub-con- 
sciousness. 

In thus distinguishing clear from vague consciousness 
we must not confuse the former with self-consciousness. 
This last is, as we shall see, a product of mental develop- 
ment, and is by no means always present in the distinctly 
conscious psychoses of mature life. 

General Function of Attention. Since attention is 
the process by which obscure half-formed products of our 
consciousness take on clearness and completeness it must, 
it is evident, play an important part in the economy of our 
mental life. It serves to bring about an orderly arrange- 
ment and a simplification of this life. The process of at- 
tention is selective, and helps to give prominence at the 
moment to some particular mental content. In this way 
the successive movements of attention, so far as they enter 
into our psychical processes, tend to reduce the multiplicity 
of sensuous and other elements which present themselves 
to a single thread of connected events which we can afterwards 
more or less completely retrace. 

While, however, we thus at the outset assign so unique 
a place and so prominent a function to attention, we have 
to admit that in all its more energetic degrees it is but an 



8 4 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



occasional ingredient of consciousness. Not only does the 
region of organic life but rarely become the object of such 
close attention ; the higher plane of conscious life itself, in- 
cluding sensation, voluntary movement, and the intellectual 
processes, involves less and less of the concentrative ele- 
ment as these processes recur and grow familiar. In this case, 
as was pointed out above, the nervous mechanism with 
which the whole of our mental life is correlated comes into 
new prominence. 

Definition of Attention. Attention may be defined as 
mental activity immediately resulting in a raising in point 
of intensity, completeness, and definiteness of certain sen- 
sations or other psychical phenomena, and a corresponding 
lowering of any other simultaneously-presented sensations, 
etc. Thus in attending to a particular voice in a chorus I 
raise this impression of sound to its full intensity, and ren- 
der it distinct, and in so doing cause other sounds to be 
comparatively faint and indistinct. 

It is implied in this definition that attention has its direc- 
tion determined by a particular psychical content, for ex- 
ample, the impression of a bird flying across the visual 
scene. A content when thus reinforced by attention is said 
to be its ' object.' 

Objects of attention are either sensations, and their 
combinations, sensation-complexes, * or what we call ideas 
or representations, e.g., the idea or mental image of a face. 
In this preliminary account of attention we shall confine 
ourselves as far as possible to the earlier and "outer" 
direction of attention, viz., attention to sensations. The 
process of "inner" attention, or attention to ideas, will be 
dealt with more fully hereafter. 

In its earliest and simplest form attention is to be con- 
ceived as a kind of mental reaction upon a sensation already 
partially excited by the proper peripheral process of stimu- 
lation. This reaction, again, in all simple cases at least, 
must be viewed as arising at once out of the partial excita- 

* These correspond to what we call ' external objects,' which thus con- 
stitute only one variety of ' objects of attention.' 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



85 



tion of the psycho-physical process in sensation, which 
process thus constitutes the stimulus or excitant of atten- 
tion. Thus, in the above example, it is the whole process 
of excitation due to the action of the image of the bird on 
the retina, which arouses the mental attitude of looking at 
and so specially attending to this object. 

Positive and Negative Aspect of Attention. Again, 
our definition of attention implies that it is at once a rein- 
forcing and a weakening of psychical contents. We can- 
not attend in one direction and so intensify a particular 
presentative element without, ipso facto, withdrawing atten- 
tion from other directions, that is to say, inhibiting other 
simultaneous presentations. To look closely at a thing is 
for the moment to be partially deaf to sound. Attention 
thus is essentially a narrowing or concentrating of conscious- 
ness, that is, a converging of the light of consciousness on 
a definite tract, like the central part of the field of vision, 
and a correlative darkening of the rest of the scene. In 
many of the higher forms of attention, specially spoken of 
as concentration of mind, we carry out particular movements 
in order to aid this process of quenching irrelevant and 
rival sensations, as in closing the eyes when listening. 

Attention is a thing of degrees. No doubt we popularly 
talk of attending only where we put forth a specially high 
degree of exertion, and do so moreover by what is called a 
volitional effort. But the activity of attention reaches far 
below this rare exceptional effort. There may be moment- 
ary risings of attention, fugitive glances of the mental eye, 
as at a teasing sensation of bodily discomfort, of which we 
are only half aware. Such swift and instantly-forgotten 
movements of attention play a large part in the developed 
mental life of the adult. Attention extends from the se- 
verest to the least recognisable degree of conscious mental 
exertion. 

The position of this lower limit fixes the extent of non- 
attention or inattention, that is, the absence of mental ac- 
tivity. In waking life we probably never realise a state of 
total inattention. Yet we may be said to approximate to 



86 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

such a point in all states of mental languor, drowsiness, 
mental fatigue, and so forth. 

The characteristics of the state of inattention are re- 
laxation of effort, or cessation of the strain of attention, 
and a substitution for a lively predominance of certain 
psychical elements, of a dull level, viz., a crowd of equally- 
confused sensations. These features of inattention are 
brought out by the common expression "scattering" or 
"dispersion" of thoughts, and the corresponding French 
term distraction (cf. the German Zerstreutheit). 

Nervous Process in Attention. We have thus far 
considered attention merely on its subjective side as a mode 
of consciousness : we have now to inquire into its nervous 
concomitants. The fact that attention is a mode of active 
consciousness suggests that these will be found in certain 
motor processes : and observation bears out this inference. 
Thus, to begin with the simplest mode of attention, viz., 
with sensations, when we are looking at an object atten- 
tively, we are carrying out a number of motor adjustments 
— such as accommodation of the lens, alteration of con- 
vergence — which subserve perfect vision. Along with these 
eye-movements there are head-movements which serve the 
same purpose. Similarly in active touching, and even in 
listening, attention seems to stand in closest connexion with 
motor adjustments. 

There is reason to suppose that these muscular actions 
not only directly subserve to that clearness and distinctness 
of impression which it is the business of attention to se- 
cure, but contribute, in part if not altogether, the character- 
istic complexion of the mental state itself, viz., the sensa- 
tion of tension, strain or exertion. Close inspection will 
show, indeed, that in attending to a colour or to a sound 
the distinctive character of the experience is given by the 
concomitant sensation of muscular tension. 

In addition to this muscular element connected with the 
due control of the particular peripheral organ engaged, 
there are other concomitant muscular actions. Some of 
these, as characteristic movements of the mouth, appear so 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 87 

early and so commonly that they probably depend on com- 
mon congenital arrangements; others are distinctly ac- 
quired. This applies to certain useful movements, more 
particularly shutting the eyes, as some persons uniformly 
do when they want to get a very nice impression of touch, 
as in feeling a texture, or when, like Goethe, they desire to 
listen as well as possible to music. These concomitant 
movements manifestly add a further element of active con- 
sciousness to the state of attention. 

Lastly, reference may be made to that part of the mus- 
cular concomitant of attention which shows itself in the 
inhibition of movement. It is evident that a general still- 
ness or motionlessness of the body is useful to close sense- 
observation. The keeping of the eyes and head steady al- 
ready illustrates this inhibition of movement. Other illus- 
trations of it are the cessation of locomotion when we want 
to listen or otherwise attend to sensations. Even the slight 
disturbing movements due to breathing are inhibited when 
we attend with the higher degrees of intensity. A man 
looking intently will involuntarily hold his breath. This 
inhibition of movement is brought about by tension in op- 
posing muscles, and so adds new elements of conscious 
strain to all the more energetic forms of attention. 

What is true of sensational attention is probably true 
also of ideational, z>., attention to ideas. Thus when we 
try to visualise, that is, imagine a visible object, as a col- 
our, we can detect a sensation of muscular strain which is 
referrible to the peripheral apparatus engaged in actual 
sseing, viz., the muscles of the eye, neck, etc. In addition 
to these there are, as in the case of sensational attention, 
concomitant muscular actions, as those in certain regions 
of the skin of the head, compressive movements of the 
mouth, etc. In certain cases also we get individual associ- 
ated movements, as the fixing of the eye on a favourite 
spot in the room when we want to think intently. Fur- 
ther, we have in ideational as in sensational attention an 
inhibition of diffuse disturbing movement. Thus, during a 
prolonged effort of thought, the head is apt to be fixed, the 



88 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

breath held, as is indicated in the French expression for a 
close thinker, de longne haleine* 

It is doubtful whether this motor factor, large as it is, 
is the whole of the physiological process in attention. The 
intensification and clearer definition of a sensation of sound 
or colour by attention probably involves other neural pro- 
cesses which go to intensify action at the particular points of 
the cortex engaged. Thus in attending to a colour we may 
suppose that the activity of the colour-centre is somehow 
augmented. The nature of this process of central nervous 
reinforcement is not as yet understood. There is, however, 
some reason to suppose that a principal factor in this local 
intensification of central activity is a heightening of the 
blood-supply in the particular cortical tract and correlative 
diminution of it in other regions. 

Attention as Adjustment: Expectant Attention. 
It follows from the above conception of attention as a re- 
inforcing reflex that it is essentially a process of adjust- 
ment. In many cases we can see that we fail to fix and 
intensify a sensation because this adjustment is not com- 
pleted. Thus momentary impressions of sight or hearing, 
especially if following one another irregularly, do not be- 
come distinct because there is not time for the responsive 
reflex action. Sudden and powerful impressions, e.g., loud 
explosive noises, are with difficulty attended to, and are apt 
to leave a confused after-impression. It has been ascer- 
tained by experiment that the process of adjustment is 
easier and more rapid in the case of sensations of a moder- 
ate intensity than in that of very intense or very faint sen- 
sations. 

The fact that there is an adjustive process in attention, 
the duration of which varies according as the conditions 
are favourable or unfavourable, is illustrated in the com- 
mon experience that the fixing of attention is rendered easy 

* It is probable that these motor concomitants of ideational attention, 
like those of sensational attention, serve to some extent at least to ensure 
distinctness in the psychical result. This point cannot, however, be dis- 
cussed at this stage. 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



8 9 



and rapid or the reverse by the preceding state and particular 
direction of the attention. In a condition of mental lethargy 
or inattentiveness, as also of mental preoccupation, i. e., 
pre-engagement of attention in other directions, a greater 
force of stimulus is needed to secure attention in the re- 
quired direction. A boy buried in a book, or busy carpen- 
tering, is apt to be slow at hearing a question. On the 
other hand, the process of adjustment may be greatly aided 
by a preceding congruent or favourable mode of activity. 
Not only is a state of mental wakefulness favourable to at- 
tention generally, but the direction of attention to an ob- 
ject A will under certain circumstances facilitate the sub- 
sequent direction of it to a second object B. This happens 
when the objects are homogeneous, as two visual impres- 
sions, say features in a room or landscape, and when in 
consequence the muscular adjustments are similar. It hap- 
pens, further, as we shall see later, when the first and sec- 
ond objects of attention are connected or associated one 
with another, as the sound of a name and the idea of its 
owner ; for in this case, owing to repetition and the forma- 
tion of central connexions, the transition of attention is 
rendered smooth. 

The process of adjustment has, in the cases hitherto 
considered, been supposed to follow the effect of a sen- 
sational stimulus. But with the growth of the power of 
ideation we are able, by anticipating a particular impression, 
to carry out the process before the presentation of the im- 
pression, in which case attention may be said to bepre-ad- 
justed. This is seen in all cases of expectation or expectant 
attention. The consequence of such pre-adjustment is, as 
has been proved by experiment, a considerable shortening 
of the process by which sensations become distinct and are 
recognised. Here we have to suppose not only a prepara- 
tory muscular adjustment but a central psycho-physical 
preparation corresponding to the development of the idea 
of that which is expected. 

This expectation may be of different degrees of perfec- 
tion. Thus we may know (exactly or approximately) the 



9 o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



/ 



time at which the sensation will occur. In listening to a 
new poem or a new musical composition we anticipate the 
succeeding sounds in their regular recurrence. In the ex- 
periments referred to it has been shown that previous 
knowledge of the exact moment of the appearance of a 
sensation shortens the process of recognition. 

Expectation, in the full sense, involves some previous 
knowledge of the nature or quality of an impression, and 
not merely of the point of time of its occurrence. In some 
cases I may be able to distinctly forecast the character of 
the particular sensation that is coming. Thus on watching 
a singer about to commence a song with which I am familiar, 
I have an anticipatory idea of the opening tones. Experi- 
ment has further proved that such definite anticipation, by 
including a preliminary sub-excitation of the particular 
{e.g., auditory) nerve-centre engaged, will still further 
shorten the process of receiving a sensation. Lastly, it has 
been shown that when this anticipation of the precise 
quality of an impression is supplemented by the prevision 
of the exact moment of its appearance, the duration of the 
process of recognition is reduced to a minimum, so that the 
process of pre-adjustment of attention may be said to be 
perfect. 

The experiments here referred to belong to the new and promising 
department of experimental psychology known as Psychometry. The 
method of experimentation consists in estimating by a delicate chrono- 
metric apparatus the interval between the reception of a sensory stimulus, 
say a sound, by the subject of the experiment, and the actual execution of a 
responsive movement, as of the hand or a particular finger. This inteiwal 
is known as the " reaction-time." The experiments, among other results, 
show that the reaction-time may be made half as long again when a dis- 
turbing sound (an organ playing in the same room) is at work. On the 
other hand, if the process of adjustment is carried out wholly or in part 
beforehand, the reaction-time may be reduced to a third or less. 

Fixation and Movement of Attention. The process 
of attention has the immediate effect of fixing an impression. 
Attention is detention in consciousness. The more serious 
efforts of attention always imply a prolonged fixation of a 
particular psychical content or group of contents. At the 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



91 



same time it is evident that the duration of this process of 
attentive fixation has its limits. It has been found that, 
when we try to attend for a considerable time to-one and 
the same impression, the exertion does not remain of one 
uniform strength, but periodically rises and falls. This is 
illustrated in the common experience that in listening to 
the ticking of a clock, or to the continuous sound of a 
waterfall, there is an alternate increase and decrease in the 
intensity of the sound. This fact of periodic rise and fall 
in the strength of attention has been called the oscillation 
of attention. 

Another fact to be noted in this connexion is the tend- 
ency to movement or change of direction observable in 
attention. What may be called the natural condition of 
attention is a flitting or rapid passing from one object to 
another. This is illustrated in the incessant turning of 
eyes and head by a lively monkey in obedience to every 
new visual or aural impression, and in the infant's similar 
transitions from object to object. Even what we call pro- 
longed concentration of mind on a single topic is in reality 
a succession of changes in the direction of attention, viz., 
to new aspects, new relations of the subject. 

These movements are determined, to some extent, by the 
very mechanism of attention. Thus it is evident that since 
all attention involves muscular action of some kind, the 
fatigue that arises from an undue prolongation of this 
action is favourable to a change in the direction of atten- 
tion. As every teacher knows, a child, after attending 
closely to visual objects, as in drawing or other fine work 
involving the eye, welcomes a change in the direction of at- 
tention, as in listening to an oral lesson. A prolonged 
effort of attention will often tire us for the particular form 
of mental activity, e.g., looking or listening, without tiring 
us for other forms. 

Again, the very fact that at any moment we are exposed 
to the action of a number of rival sense-stimuli favours the 
movement of attention. When occupied with one particular 
impression, or group of impressions, the intrusion of a new 



9 2 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



one acts as a diverting force. This is seen more particu- 
larly when the new impression is strong or rousing on ac- 
count of its changefulness, as in the case of all moving 
objects, which are known by the schoolmaster to be specially 
distracting. Novel impressions excite by the very fact of 
their being new, and standing out, so to speak, in relief 
against the collective horde of our acquired impressions. 
And when the effect of surprise is added, as in the case of 
all unexpected objects, the diverting force is increased. 
Hence, perhaps, the special tendency to wandering of the 
attention on the part of children, who are much more under 
the stimulus of the new, the extraordinary, and the wonder- 
ful than older people. 

The readiness with which these transitions of attention can 
be made varies with a number of circumstances. As already 
suggested, the existence of any connexion between one im- 
pression or idea and another greatly favours the movement 
of attention from the first to the second. As we shall see 
by-and-by, there is a special tendency to a hurrying on 
from sensations or ideas relatively uninteresting to associ- 
ated ideas which have a strong interest for us. This is 
illustrated in our scant attention to signs, such as spoken 
or written words, under the mastering influence of the ideas 
signified — a tendency which every proof-reader has to over- 
come.* Again, what is known as liveliness of temperament 
shows itself mainly, perhaps, in a special mobility of atten- 
tion or readiness to transfer it to any new object. The 
bright, impressionable, versatile mind is characterised by 
rapidity of mental movement. Exercise and practice, more- 
over, do much to develop this power, just as they serve to 
strengthen the ability to prolong effort on occasion in some 
particular direction in patient concentration. 

* Overlooking errors in spelling, etc., when reading a proof, arises from 
a double cause: (a) the want of interest in signs ; (b) the usurpation of the 
place of perception by expectant imagination. One fails to detect the wrong 
letter or wrong word, because the idea of the whole word or whole sentence 
" blinds " us to what is actually presented. This second source of inatten- 
tion will be spoken of when we take up the subject of perception. 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



93 



Analytical and Synthetical Attention : Area of 
Attention. All attention is a process of focusing, and as 
such a concentration or narrowing of the psychical area. 
In the simplest mode of attention, as when a sound calls 
forth a reaction, we have the process taking on the aspect of 
a selective isolation of particular psychical elements. This 
isolating or analytic aspect of attention becomes particularly 
marked when we seek to break up the complexes of sensation 
with a view to single out particular constituents, as in ana- 
lytically resolving the flavour of a dish into its constituents, 
and fixing attention on certain of these to the disregard of 
others. 

While, however, attention is thus primarily separating 
or isolating, it has a second function, that of combining a 
plurality of sensations or other psychical elements. Thus 
we may attend not merely to a particular detail of colour 
in a picture, but to the ensemble of colours, not merely to 
a constituent tone in a musical accord, but to the accord as 
a whole. This synthetic direction of attention is, as we 
shall see when we come to deal with the process of intel- 
lectual synthesis, of the highest consequence. 

Each of these modes of attention has its limiting con- 
ditions, which may be understood, in part, by help of the 
above conception of the psycho-physical process. Thus min- 
ute attention to details of a sensation-complex is favoured 
by their local separation, as in the case of a number of fine 
colour-details in a miniature painting. Such local separa- 
tion evidently allows of a particular muscular adjustment 
to this, that and the other detail. In the case of sensations 
of sound, on the other hand, where such local distinctness 
and correlated muscular adjustment are wanting, minute 
analytical attention is rendered difficult. 

With respect to the other mode, synthetic or combining 
attention, the general limiting condition is that the various 
' objects ' simultaneously grasped in attention stand in a 
certain relation one to another as parts of one and the same 
whole. The most obvious bond of connexion is that sup- 
plied by their being constituents of the same sense-domain. 



94 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



I can attend to two colours together, because they consti- 
tute features of one visible scene. Where disparate or 
heterogeneous sensations, as visual and auditory, are at- 
tended to together, as in watching the fingers and listening 
to the tones of a pianist, it is because they have come to be 
taken up into a new conjoint field through the working of 
the law of association to be spoken of presently. Here, 
again, it is easy to see that the particular combination of 
muscular adjustments required is facilitated by frequent 
repetitions in the past. 

A special question arises in connexion with the synthetic 
direction of attention, viz., the " area " or " span " of atten j 
tion, i.e., the greatest number of things which we can at- 
tend to at the same moment. A new light has been thrown 
on the problem by recent experiments. Thus it has been 
found that if a number of small objects, as printed letters 
or digits, are placed near one another so as to be all visible 
in direct vision, and then looked at for a fraction of a sec- 
ond, just long enough to generate a clear retinal impres- 
sion, from four to five can be instantaneously grasped to- 
gether. When the objects can be grouped together as feat- 
ures of a familiar form, three times the number can be 
instantaneously attended to. The conditions of the ex- 
periments preclude the supposition that attention passes 
in this case successively from one to another of the 
objects. 

Determinants of Attention : Interest. Attention, 
though a fundamental factor in our mental processes, is 
itself determined. The determining antecedents of atten- 
tion vary with its form and its degree of development. 
Only a rough account of these is possible at the present 
stage of our exposition. 

In the earliest stage of attention, which is marked off 
as Reflex or Non-voluntary, the determining force resides in 
the sensation or its ideal representative. Here the direc- 
tion of attention will be determined, on the one hand, by 
the strength and the persistence of the impression, and, on 
the other hand, by its suddenness, novelty, and generally 



MENTAL ELABORATION . ATTENTION. 



95 



its disturbing character in relation to the pre-existing state 
of mind. Each of these circumstances is important, and 
may suffice of itself to effect the reflex process. Thus a 
faint sound, as the striking of a distant clock, when re- 
peated, gathers stimulatory force. A familiar object, as a 
picture on the wall, which, when in its customary place, 
would remain unnoticed, immediately attracts attention 
when moved into new surroundings. 

It is evident that we have here to do with a germ of 
feeling. A sudden and novel impression commonly, if not 
in all cases, excites a certain amount of feeling, whether it 
be of agreeable exhilaration or of disagreeable shock ; and 
this element of feeling seems to intensify attention in these 
cases. This influence becomes more manifest where the 
sensations have a considerable element of the agreeable or 
disagreeable. A bright colour, a sweet sound, and, on the 
other hand, a hard, grating noise, attract the attention by 
reason of the feeling that they excite. How strong this 
force of feeling can be is plainly seen in the early appetite- 
prompted actions of a child. A hungry infant enjoying 
its meal becomes amazingly inattentive to everything 
else. 

A considerable extension of the range of attention is 
effected when the processes of association have been car- 
ried far enough for present impressions instantly to re- 
vive and connect themselves with previous ones, as when 
a child's attention is drawn to the process of preparing its 
food, or to some new object which immediately suggests a 
familiar one by its likeness. Here the presentative element 
is reinforced by the addition of representative elements, 
the residua of earlier impressions, and thus the process of 
attention involves more of the ideational or central factor 
spoken of above. The attractive force in this case too is 
determined by the volume and intensity of the feeling ex- 
cited, only that the feeling is here no longer a direct result 
of the present sensation, but bound up with ideas of past 
impressions and so revived along with them. 

The facts just touched on are commonly spoken of as 



g6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the effect of Interest. When it is said that we attend to 
what interests us it is meant that we attend when our feel- 
ings are touched, that is, to objects or ideas which directly 
or indirectly excite feeling. We may thus be said to be 
interested when we experience a pleasurable sensation, e.g., 
that of a sweet sound, and our attention directs itself to its 
cause. In the narrower sense we are ' interested ' where a 
new presentation comes into relation to our previously 
acquired stock of ideas and their attendant feelings, that is 
to say, calls up and becomes complicated with an idea or 
cluster of ideas having some affective accompaniment. 
Thus a child begins to be interested in talk about itself as 
soon as the idea and connected feeling of self begins to 
grow a distinct, stable, and readily excitable factor in its 
consciousness. This tendency to give attention to what 
comes within the circle of established feelings and interests 
is made use of by the modern educator as the basis of 
teaching method.* 

We thus see that attention is under the sway of two 
opposed forces, novelty and familiarity. The new, the 
rare, the unexperienced exerts a powerful spell on the 
attention, not only of the child, but of the adult. On the 
other hand, in proportion as fixed interests, that is, idea- 
tional complexes bound together by a common feeling, 
form themselves, and, one may add, as novelty of impres- 
sion diminishes, these interests tend to draw off attention 
from the wholly new in the direction of the familiar. Thus, 
as feelings settle down to steady tastes and inclinations, 
the child attends more and more to what connects itself 
with and helps to gratify these. Even here, however, the 
attractive force arises from the partial novelty of the im- 
pression. What is wholly familiar, as the objects of our 
daily environment, does not attract our attention. " Fa- 
miliarity breeds contempt " in this sense also. As pointed 

* Herbart and his school describe the fixing of a new sensation 
through the revival of kindred ideational elements as a process of Apper- 
ception. The new presentation is said to be apperceived by a pre-existing 
cluster of ideas. 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



97 



out above, it is the presentiment of the old in a new setting 
that really excites the attention in such cases. 

Transition to Voluntary Attention. As the last 
stage in the development of attention we have its voluntary- 
direction and control. This is marked off by a clear idea 
of end 01 purpose. We attend voluntarily when we wish to 
obtain some object of desire, as a piece of coveted informa-* 
tion. The nature of this volitional process can only be 
understood when we come to consider conation. Here it 
must suffice to point out that it emerges gradually out of 
the feeling-prompted attention just considered as soon as 
experience and mental development render possible an an- 
ticipation of the results of our activity. Thus a child be- 
gins to attend voluntarily when he maintains a pleasurable 
sensation, e.g., that of a sweet tone, under the pressure of a 
vague impulse to go on enjoying. The transition is seen, 
too, in the growth of curiosity, or a desire to examine and 
understand a new object, which commonly takes its rise in 
some pleasurable impression due to the novelty, or the 
prettiness of the object. 

This transition to voluntary attention does not mean 
a liberation of attention from all determining influences. 
Interest is still the stimulus which excites the reaction, 
only that the interest is here less direct and of a borrowed 
or reflected kind. Thus, when we attend to an otherwise 
dry and repellent subject because we see that the knowl- 
edge of it bears on some object of desire, we are, by thus 
connecting it with the desired object, investing it with a 
derived interest. To this it may be added that in such cases 
the volitional effort at the outset is apt to be soon relieved 
by the inherent attractiveness of the subject that discloses 
itself to patient attention. 

The effect of this development of interest and of will- 
power on the attention is greatly to widen its range, and 
also to facilitate a more exact and more prolonged adjust- 
ment. The widening of the range is illustrated in the effect 
of a growth of scientific or artistic interest by which small, 
obscure, and commonly-overlooked phenomena of the outer 
7 ! -'- 



98 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

world become objects of close scrutiny. The increased 
prolongation is seen in the continued pursuit of artistic, 
scientific, and other lines of activity. 

In addition to the special stimuli or excitants just con- 
sidered, there are more general conditions of attention. 
These may be summed up under the comprehensive head, 
degree of vigour of the central organs. Attention being 
the greatest expenditure of psycho-physical energy, it is 
evident that its efficient carrying out presupposes a normal 
vigorous condition of the brain-centres. 

Effects of Attention. Turning now to the effects of 
attention we find that (a) one of its most immediate results 
is an increase in the intensity of a sensation. Thus by at- 
tending to a sensation of sound we bring its intensity up 
to its full or perfect degree. 

(b) Along with this increase in intensity, and of equal if 
not of greater importance, there goes increase in definition 
of character. It is when we attend to a sensation of colour, 
taste, and so forth, that this acquires distinctness of quality. 
Similarly the precise extensity and duration of a sensation 
grow distinct only when attention is added. 

(c) Attention secures a certain persistence in the sensa- 
tion or idea. Thus by looking at a colour I prolong for an 
appreciable period the sensation of this colour. In the case 
of ideas the fixing of attention tends, still more manifestly, 
to prolong their presence in consciousness. This power of 
detention will be found to be of the greatest consequence 
for the elaboration of psychical material. 

(a) Lastly, this attention and detention lead on to re- 
tention. It is, as we shall see presently, by fixing atten- 
tion for an appreciable time on a presentative element, say 
the note of a thrush, that we are able to connect it with, 
or bring it into relation to, other elements, the sight of the 
bird, and so secure its subsequent reproduction. 

We thus see that attention underlies and helps to deter- 
mine the whole process of mental elaboration. It secures, 
in the full intensity, distinctness, and due persistence of the 
presentative elements, the fundamental condition of those 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. 



99 



processes of differentiation, assimilation, etc., in which the 
work of elaboration properly consists. 

From this slight account of the place and function of 
attention we can see the importance of a proper develop- 
ment and training of it. A trained ability to fix the 
thoughts on a subject is the prime condition of all mental 
achievement, whether in the domain of intellectual activity, 
as in scientific research and literary production, or in that 
of practical affairs. Since, however, the strengthening and 
perfecting of the attention is essentially a process of voli- 
tion, the practical question how this can be best carried out 
will be most profitably considered when we have dealt with 
the volitional process itself. 

Training of the Attention. It must be evident that 
all intellectual guidance of the young implies the power of 
holding their attention. Instruction may be said to begin 
when the mother can secure the attention of the infant to 
an object by pointing her finger to it. Henceforth she has 
the child's mental life to a certain extent under her control, 
and can select the impressions which shall give new knowl- 
edge or new enjoyment. What we mark off as formal 
teaching, whether by the presentation of external objects 
for inspection by the senses, or by verbal instruction, 
clearly involves at every stage an appeal to the attention, 
and depends for its success on the securing of this mental 
reaction. To know how to exercise the attention, how to 
call forth its full activity, is thus the first condition of suc- 
cess in education. 

Mental Science assists the educator here as elsewhere 
by pointing out certain general conditions which have to 
be observed and the natural order of procedure. It is plain 
in the first place that the laws of attention must be com- 
plied with. He would be a foolish teacher who gave a 
child a number of disconnected things to do at the same 
time, or who endeavoured to keep the young learner's mind 
directed to one and the same subject for hours together. 
Yet though these conditions are obvious enough, others 
are more easily overlooked. Thus it is probable that a 



IOO OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

more exact knowledge of the effects of novelty of subject 
and mode of treatment on the one hand, and of strange- 
ness, that is, want of adaptation to previous knowledge, on 
the other hand, would save teachers from many errors. 
Some of us can recall from our school days both the weari- 
some effect of an oft-recurring stereotyped illustration, and 
the impression of repellent strangeness produced by a first, 
and too sudden, introduction to a perfectly new branch of 
study. 

In the second place it will be well to bear in mind that 
the young child's power of attention is rudimentary only, 
and that the psycho-physical energies must be economised 
by removing all obstacles and making the task as agree- 
able and consequently as little fatiguing as possible. It 
would, for example, be idle to try to enlist the close atten- 
tion of a child if he were bodily fatigued, or if he were 
under the influence of perturbing emotional excitement. 
Again it would be vain to expect him to listen to oral- in- 
struction when exposed to powerful distracting influences, 
as when placed close to a window looking out on a busy 
street. Children's attention naturally flows outwards to 
the sights and sounds of the external world, and is less 
easily diverted by the teacher's words towards the world 
of imagination and thought. Consequently, in teaching, 
everything should be done to reduce the force of outward 
things. The teacher would do well to remember that even 
so practised a thinker as Kant found it helpful to pro- 
longed meditation to fix his eye on a familiar and therefore 
unexciting object (a neighbouring church-spire). Not only 
so, the subject and mode of treatment chosen should be 
such as to attract the learner's attention to the utmost. 
What is fresh, interesting, or associated with some pleasur- 
able interest, will secure and hold the attention when dry 
topics altogether fail to do so. Much may be done in this 
direction by preparation, by awakening curiosity, and by 
putting the child's mind in the attitude of tiptoe ex- 
pectancy. 

As the pupil grows more may of course be required in 



MENTAL ELABORATION : ATTENTION. IO i 

the shape of an effort to direct attention. It must never 
be forgotten, however, that all through life forced attention 
to what is wholly uninteresting is not only wearing, but is 
certain to be ineffectual and unproductive. Hence the rule 
to adapt intellectual work to the growing tastes and likings 
of the child. Not only so, the teacher should regard it as 
an important part of the training of the attention to arouse 
interest, to deepen and fix it in certain definite directions, 
and gradually to enlarge its range.* Harder task-work, as 
in confronting such comparatively uninteresting matter as 
the notes of the musical scale, must be introduced gradu- 
ally, and only when the will-power is sufficiently developed. 
Great care must be taken further to graduate the length or 
duration of the mental application both in a particular di- 
rection, and generally, in accordance with the growth of 
the child's brain-power and capacity for mental work. An 
ideal school-system would exhibit all gradations in this re- 
spect ; alternation and complete remission of mental ac- 
tivity being frequent at first, and growing less and less so 
as the power of prolonged activity developed. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the nature of Attention the following may be consulted : Hamilton, 
Lectures on Metaphysics, vol. i. lect. xiv. ; Ward, article " Psycholgoy," 
Encyclop. Britannica, pp. 41, 42 ; and James, Psychology, i. chap. xiii. 
On the training of the attention, see Locke, Some Thoughts concerning 
Education, § 167 ; Maria Edgeworth, Essays on Practical Education, vol. 
i. chap. ii. Beneke, Erziehungs und Unterrichtslehre , 4th ed., vol. i 
§ 19 ; and Th. Waitz's Allgemeine Pddagogik, vol. i., § 23. 

* Volkmann remarks that the older pasdagogic had as its rule, " Make 
your instruction interesting" ; whereas the newer has the precept, "Instruct 
in such a way that an interest may be awakened and remain active for 
life " [Lehrbuch der Psychologic, vol. ii., p. 200). 



CHAPTER VI. 

PROCESS OF ELABORATION (CONTINUED) : DIFFERENTIATION 
AND INTEGRATION. 

Factors in Mental Elaboration. The process of at- 
tention considered in the previous chapter prepares the way 
for the proper work of elaboration of the psychical ele- 
ments. By this is meant the carrying out of certain pro- 
cesses into which the sensational elements enter as materi- 
als or constituents. Thus we may say that the visual sen- 
sations of colour, etc., are elaborated when they are distin- 
guished one from another and combined in certain groups, 
as the total visual presentation of a particular flower. 

If now we ask what these processes are, we find that 
they are only another aspect of the elementary processes 
already spoken of as constituting what we call intellection, 
that is to say, Discrimination, or as it may be also called 
Differentiation (i.e., Differencing), Assimilation and Asso- 
ciation, the two last forming together Integration (or 
" wholeing "). Our mental life unfolds by help of the re- 
newal of these elementary functional activities. Thus, just 
as we know a thing by distinguishing it, so the contents of 
mind become more numerous by successive differencings of 
what was before confused. In like manner, assimilation at 
once enters into every process of knowing, as in recognis- 
ing a taste, and aids in the longer process of mental devel- 
opment by producing new permanent modes of grouping of 
psychical elements, as in the classification of like objects 
by help of a general name. The same thing holds good of 
association. Not only is the interpretation of this, that, 
and the other sensation -complex, e.g., the succession of 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



IO3 



creaky sounds of a person walking upstairs, an illustration 
of association or suggestion, the process of associative 
combination is a main factor in development. This is seen 
in the progressive elaboration of what is relatively simple 
into more and more complex products, for example, the 
growth of our whole, highly-composite idea of a particular 
man, or locality, into which each new year's experience in- 
corporates additional associated elements. 

A word or two by way of illustration on each of these 
processes will prepare us to view the whole movement of 
mental development. 

(a) Process of Differentiation. By the term differ- 
entiation the biologist means the gradual emergence or ap- 
pearance of difference (heterogeneity) between one tissue 
or one organ and another, as the development of an organ- 
ism proceeds. This process, we are told, begins with a rela- 
tively simple or homogeneous structure, which gradually 
takes on more and more of heterogeneity and speciality 
through segmentation or division of parts, the several parts 
taking on a dissimilar structure. 

Applying this idea to mind, we can speak of differenti- 
ation as the emergence in consciousness of distinctness and 
speciality. Thus the infant's colour-sense, though, if a nor- 
mal one, potentially including all nuances of colour-quality, 
realises as yet but few, if any, qualitative varieties. The 
progress of sense-development means primarily the substi- 
tution of a more and more varied range of sensations of a 
larger and larger number of dissimilar impressions. And it 
will be found that the whole development of the intelli- 
gence consists in part in the advance of such differenti- 
ation. 

It has already been pointed out that attention is in its 
general nature selectively isolating. When an infant first 
fixates an object, as a bright light, it virtually differenti- 
ates the impression from those of surrounding objects. In 
other words, by this process of adjustment a separate and 
distinct impression is secured. The peculiar character 
(quality, strength) of the impression begins to make itself 



104 



OUTLINES OF TSYCHOLOGY. 



known : definiteness of impression begins to be experi- 
enced. In a wide sense, then, all attention, as selective, 
isolative and defining, is a process of differentiation. 

We may trace the process of differentiation or differen- 
tial definition in various directions. At the beginning of 
life we may suppose that sensational consciousness as a 
whole is a confused mass in which differences are only 
vaguely emergent. Among the first distinctions to appear 
would be the broad generic ones between sensations of dif- 
ferent classes, as a taste, a smell. The process of differen- 
tiation or psychical segmentation would reach a more ad- 
vanced stage when distinctions within the same class of 
sensations began to present themselves, as different tastes, 
different colours, etc., 

Along with these distinctions of qualitative character, 
those of intensity and of volume or extensity, and of local 
character, would gradually come to be noted. Thus, for 
example, different degrees of pressure, different extents of 
colour, and touches of different local character (at this, 
that, and the other point) would be separately attended to. 

This process of differentiation progresses gradually. 
Just as tastes are first differentiated from other classes of 
sensations before one taste is differentiated from another, 
so within the limits of the same special sense the process 
advances from broad to finer and finer distinctions. Thus 
we know from the way in which the colour-vocabulary 
grows in the case both of the individual and of the race 
that a red is distinguished as such before a particular shade 
of red, as scarlet or crimson, is distinctively noted. 

The course taken by this progressive movement of dif- 
ferentiation is modified by the forces which act upon and 
determine the directions of the attention. Hence it is 
far from being perfectly regular, and probably varies con- 
siderably in the case of man and other animals, as well as 
in that of different men. Superior strength and vivacity of 
impression count for much here. This is illustrated in the 
fact that the brightest and most stimulating colours (reds 
and yellows) are in general the first to be singled out and 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 105 

recognised by the child. Much depends, too, on the value 
of the particular sensation as bearing on the special interests 
of the species or individual. Thus the dog first selects and 
particularises among smells that of his food, his master, 
etc. ; the horse singles out among colours that answering to 
wholesome herbage, and so forth. 

Differentiation and Discrimination. We have thus 
far considered differentiation merely as a process of dis- 
tinctively marking off or defining particular varieties of 
sensation. Here, through special adjustments of attention, 
particular sensations of colour, taste, and so forth, come to 
be distinguished as this, that, and the other. Such differen- 
tiation or particularisation of sensational character does not, 
however, amount to a full consciousness or mental grasp of 
a relation of difference between one sensation and another. 
Still less does it include a clear apprehension of the pre- 
cise feature, e.g., intensity, quality, in which two sensations 
differ, or the extent of this difference. Such a clear appre- 
hension or grasp of difference, as distinguished from a singling 
out of, and attending to, distinct and different sensations, 
is best described as an act of conscious Discrimination. Dif- 
ferentiation, in the first sense, precedes discrimination. The 
latter only becomes possible as impressions are retained and 
processes of comparison between impressions are carried 
out. 

True, discrimination may be supposed to arise out of 
differentiation in this way : A child in passing from darkness 
to light, from cold to heat, would at first have only a vague 
consciousness of change or transition. But by acquiring 
the power of going back on the preceding sensation, and 
representing it along with the latter one, he would little by 
little gain an apprehension of a particular kind and amount 
of difference. 

Law of Change or Relativity. It is commonly held 
that change or difference of state constitutes a fundamen- 
tal factor in our conscious life. A dead level of sensation 
without the least introduction of freshness or variation 
would be indistinguishable from sleep. As Hobbes has it, 



I0 6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

"Semper idem sentire acnon sentire ad idem revertunt." 
This fact of the dependence of mental life on change 
has been formulated under the name of the Law of Rela- 
tivity. 

This law of change or variety finds its explanation in 
part in the very conditions of vigorous nervous action. 
Prolonged stimulation of a nervous structure is attended in 
certain cases at least with fatigue or falling off in functional 
activity, a result which shows itself subjectively as dimin- 
ished intensity of sensation. Change of stimulation, on the 
other hand, by calling into play a fresh organ, ensures 
greater intensity in the psychical effect. Further, we have 
seen that the frequent diversion of the adjustive process 
from one impression or region of impressions to another is 
necessary to a vigorous maintenance of the attention. 
This is strikingly illustrated in what has been called " the 
acquired incapacity " to attend to constant and unvarying 
impressions. The miller after a time fails to hear the noise 
of his mill.* 

According to one rendering of the Law of Relativity, change is not only 
a general condition of distinct and vivid sensation, but it is one factor in 
determining the particular quality of a sensation. Thus it is said that black 
is only seen to be black in contrast to white, that the several partial colours 
are for us what they are because of their relations to other colours. It 
seems, however, more correct to say that the quality of a sensation is de- 
termined by the particular psycho-physical process involved in the sensa- 
tion, though the juxtaposition of a dissimilar and contrasting sensation is 
one principal means of arousing the attention to its peculiar character. 

(p.) Process of Assimilation : Relation of Like- 
ness. The second of the constituent processes entering 
into intellectual elaboration is known as Assimilation. This 
may be taken to include all processes by which like sensa- 
tions or other psychical contents "attract "one another 
and tend to combine or coalesce, as in recognising a taste 
as like one previously experienced. As a mode of bringing 

* It is uncertain how far the apparent loss of intensity with prolongation 
of the stimulus is the result of fatigue in the sensory centres or of the re- 
laxation of the attentional process. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. j y 

together and combining presentative elements assimilation 
is clearly opposed to differentiation, which in itself tends to 
a marking off or isolation of psychical contents, and so it 
constitutes one part of what is known as integration. 

When we say that assimilation is the conjoining of like 
sensations, we mean by likeness any degree of similarity 
from the lowest degree of imperfect likeness which is just 
perceptible up to perfect likeness or psychical ' equality.'* 
Two sensations maybe appreciably like one another yet far 
from quite or completely similar, as in the case of two ad- 
jacent members of the colour- or tone-scale or two adja- 
cent sounds in the scale of intensity or loudness. The 
relation of likeness is here regarded as a perfectly simple 
and fundamental relation, co-ordinate with dissimilarity or 
difference. Perfect likeness, it may be added, whether of 
quality or of intensity, must be estimated for practical pur- 
poses by indistinguishableness when attention is closely directed 
to the sensations. 

The distinction of perfect and imperfect likeness just 
spoken of has to do with differences in the degree of the 
likeness. In addition to these there are differences in the 
extent or area of the likeness. Thus two colours may re- 
semble one another totally in all points, tint, saturation, etc., 
or only partially in some one or more of these constituent 
features. A good deal of what we ordinarily mean by 
likeness, more particularly when we ascribe likeness to 
those complexes which we call ' things ' is of this partial 
character. 

The simplest expression of the assimilative function is 
to be found in that process by which a present sensation 
(or sensation complex) is apprehended as something famil- 
iar. This is spoken of as Recognition or knowing again. 
It may be illustrated in effect on the infant consciousness 

* The term ' identity ' is sometimes used to indicate such perfect like- 
ness. But the word is open to the objection that two sensations experi- 
enced at different times are not the ' same ' in the sense in which a thing 
seen to-day is the same as the thing previously seen. The nature of this 
identity will occupy us later. 



108 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of recurring and interesting sensations, e.g., the colour of 
milk, the sound of the mother's voice. Such assimilation 
is automatic or ' unconscious ' in the sense that there is no 
separate and distinct recalling of a past sensation, and clear 
awareness of the relation of the present sensation to its 
predecessor, but merely a vague sense of familiarity, of 
likeness to something past, or of 'over again.' Here we 
suppose the new sensation to be modified by the traces of 
previous like sensations. 

This automatic assimilation by accumulation of traces 
plays an important part in early mental development. Re- 
curring sensations, i. e„ the occurrence of like sensations or 
sensation-groups, is, indeed, a necessary condition of this 
development. A child soon begins to bring together and 
class its sensations; and, indeed, by common consent, it 
begins to do this hastily and even recklessly, classing 
things which are only partially alike (provided the like 
feature is striking and interesting), and overlooking dif- 
ferences, as in confusing different varieties of animal 
sound or form. Such automatic assimilation of new to old 
impressions is the first step in the formation of the con- 
nected whole which constitutes knowledge.* 

A higher state is reached when differences are sufficient- 
ly marked to require a special isolating act of attention to 
the similar ingredient of the complex, as when a child 
recognizes the mother's voice when she is playfully disguising 
it. This fixing of the attention on a similar feature or feat- 
ures in the midst of diverse elements involves a germ of the 
higher abstracting attention which will be found to play 
so prominent a part in the later intellectual processes. 

This last process forms a transition from automatic 
assimilation to conscious comparative assimilation, where 
the relatioti of similarity begins to be specially attended to. Mere 
recognition with its complete coalescence of the residua of 
past sensations with the present does not imply such appre- 

* The reader should notice how knowing or cognising and recognising 
begin and progress together, being only different aspects of the same pro- 
cess. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



IO9 



hension of relation. In the case of likeness, as in that of 
difference, this apprehension emerges gradually. Thus the 
child would begin to become conscious of likeness when 
the process of automatic assimilation was checked, e.g., 
when puzzled by seeing its mother in a new dress. 

Relation of Differentiation to Assimilation. The 
two processes of differentiation and assimilation, though, 
as we have seen, in a manner opposed one to another, are 
carried out together, and in close connexion. And it may 
be as well to point out the nature of this connexion at once. 

First of all, then, since assimilation implies attention to 
a new sensation, it may be said in every case to involve a 
measure of differentiation. A child cannot assimilate a 
taste, a touch, and so forth, till it mentally fixates, and so 
differentiates, this sensation. Our power of picking out 
and recognising particular elements in a sensation-complex, 
e.g., tones in a clang, obviously implies the power of differ- 
encing these from the other concomitant elements. Fur- 
ther, the exactness of the assimilative process throughout 
waits on the advance of differentiation. Thus the child 
begins, as we have seen, by roughly classing different va- 
rieties of red as red long before it more exactly classes a 
particular variety, e.g., scarlet or plum-colour, as such. 

This consideration helps us to understand what is meant 
by saying that assimilation (likeness) precedes discrimina- 
tion (difference) in the development of the child. Crude 
assimilation undoubtedly progresses in advance of discrimi- 
nation. Witness the daring of childish classification, as 
when it calls all males " dada," a rabbit " ba lamb," and so 
forth — a matter to be dealt with more fully by-and-by. On 
the other hand, assimilation as a precise process involves dis- 
crimination. 

While, however, differentiation thus circumscribes the 
area of exact assimilation, assimilation reacts upon differ- 
entiation. It is, as already pointed out, through the inter- 
est awakened by an element of the old or familiar in 
new impressions that attention comes to be directed to 
these, and so the differentiating process to be carried a step 



HO OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

further. If I did not recognise something familiar in this 
colour-group, this voice and so forth, that is, partially assim, 
Hate it, I should not scrutinise it so carefully, and so grow 
aware of its finer points of difference. 

(c) Process of Association. The third process in- 
volved in mental elaboration is known as Association. By 
this is meant that mode of psychical combination or integra- 
tion which binds together presentative elements occurring 
simultaneously or in immediate succession. Thus, for ex- 
ample, the several sensations that a child receives together 
from one and the same object, as those of warmth, soft- 
ness, and smoothness from the mother's breast, become 
conjoined, tied together, or integrated into one complex. 
It may be added that such integration has for its main 
condition, in addition to the occurrence of two sensational 
elements simultaneously or in close succession, a mental 
reaction on these, either in the shape of a simultaneous 
grasp of them by attention, or of a rapid movement or 
series of movements of attention from the one to the 
other. 

When we say that a mass of sensation-elements has 
been integrated we imply that when next we experience a 
part of the aggregate this will tend to recall, that is, revive 
under a representative form, the rest of the aggregate. 
Thus we know that the sight and taste of the infant's food 
have become integrated when the former manifestly calls 
up a representation (expectation) of the latter. 

It follows that psychical association always has refer- 
ence to a retention of impressions and a subsequent process 
of reproduction. We must, therefore, give a brief prelimi- 
nary account of these processes, though a full exposition 
of their laws will be postponed until we take up the phe- 
nomena of mental representation. 

Retentiveness and Reproduction. By retention as 
a psychological phenomenon is meant in general the fact 
that a sensation tends to persist, or to be followed by some 
analogous after-effect when the process of stimulation has 
ceased. In its simplest form it shows itself in the temporary 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. m 

survival of a sensation after the stimulus ceases to act, as 
when we retain an after-image of a bright object, say the 
sun's disc, some seconds after looking away from this. 
Here we suppose that the process of central excitation, 
after having been started by the peripheral stimulation, is 
capable of being prolonged, just as a tight string will go on 
vibrating after the withdrawal of the force which originated 
the movement. 

In its higher manifestation retentiveness refers to the 
revival or reproduction of a sensation after a considerable 
interval, as when a hungry child recalls the sensations of 
feeding. Here, it is evident, retentiveness means some- 
thing different from what it meant in the case of the tem- 
porarily prolonged or surviving sensation. The sensation 
recalled is not supposed to have persisted, at least as a 
conscious sensation, during the interval. How then are 
we to conceive of the retention of it during this period ? 
Two answers at once present themselves, (i) It has per- 
sisted as a true psychical phenomenon, but having fallen 
below the threshold of consciousness, it has failed to make 
its existence known. (2) It has not existed at all as a 
psychical phenomenon, but the ' retention ' is referible 
exclusively to the persistence of certain changes, changes 
variously spoken of as physiological 'traces' or 'disposi- 
tions' in the nervous centres. 

The process of reproduction is something added to 
mere retention, since it implies the re-excitation and re- 
appearance of the impression, no longer indeed as a sensa- 
tion, but in a new representative guise. This reproduction 
appears in a crude or nascent form in automatic assimila- 
tion. When a new sensation or sensation-complex is recog- 
nised as something familiar it is because of the revival and 
coalescence with the presentation of representative residua of 
past sensations. Here, however, as pointed out above, the 
revival is in most cases nascent and incomplete. This par- 
tial reproduction, being due directly to the stimulus of a 
similar sensation, has been called Immediate Reproduc- 
tion. 



H2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The other and more perfect form of revival of a presen- 
tation, distinguished by some as Mediate Reproduction, 
involves the absence of a like presentation at the moment. 
We cannot recall a colour and see a perfectly similar col- 
our at the same instant, just because a presentation and 
its corresponding representation, being qualitatively in- 
distinguishable, irresistibly coalesce. Perfect revival can 
only take place in a free form, through the rousing action 
of some other and unlike stimulus. Such a stimulus is 
supplied by some connected or associated presentation, as 
when the ?ia?ne yellow calls up the image of the colour. 
Hence this fuller form of revival may be discribed as Asso- 
ciative Revival or Suggestion. 

Such associative revival begins as soon as sensations by 
repetition and cumulation of residua have acquired the 
requisite degree of after-persistence, and association has 
knit together with sufficient firmness different parts of a 
sensation-complex. Thus the infant's first observable re- 
vivals, e.g., the suggestion of eating, of bathing, by the 
sight of the food, of the bath, illustrate at once the persist- 
ence and the weaving together of sensational elements. 

This associative revival, like the processes of differen- 
tiation and assimilation, appears under an earlier implicit 
or sub-conscious, and a later and more explicit and clearly- 
conscious form. In the' connexions which enter into our 
every-day perceptions we have a number of disparate pre- 
sentative elements (tactile, visual, etc.) solidified in an in- 
separable mass. In looking at water, at a smooth marble- 
slab, touch-elements, coolness, smoothness, mingle and tend 
to blend with sight elements. Here the representative is 
submerged under the presentative. 

If now we turn from the lower sphere of sensation and 
perception to that of ideation, i. <?., imagination and thought, 
we shall find association taking on a more explicit and 
easily-recognisable form. In recalling a series of events 
we have what is called a train of ideas or mental repre- 
sentations in which the several members are distinguishable 
as discrete psychical states. It is in this higher domain, ac- 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



113 



cordingly, that we shall expect to see the workings of asso- 
ciative integration illustrated most plainly. 

Without anticipating our more complete account of the 
law of associative revival or suggestion, we may just note 
its two main conditions. 

(1) In the first place, then, retention is determined by 
the intensity and distinctness of the presentative element. 
Now we have seen that attention tends directly to the in- 
crease of each aspect. Retention may thus be said to de- 
pend on the closeness of the act of attention and the consequent 
degree of differefttialion. Hence one reason why the organic 
sensations and those of the lower special senses are not 
readily revivable. We cannot isolate and differentiate ele- 
ments of taste as we can analyse a sound, or distinguish 
simultaneously a number of tactile or visual sensations. It 
follows that feeling, which, in the form of interest, is the 
great sustainer of the process of attention, is the main pro- 
moter of retention. 

(2) The other main condition of associative reproduc- 
tion is the repeated and uniform recurrence of the associ- 
ated elements as parts of one co-presentation. This second 
condition, usually dealt with under the head of repetition, 
will be found to be all-important in the work of associative 
integration. The child connects the look with the taste of 
the orange, the form of an object with its name, as the re- 
sult of repeated presentations of the two together. 

Physiological Basis of Reproduction. It remains 
to say a word on the probable physiological conditions of 
this revival. According to the common view this revival 
involves and depends upon the re-excitation of the central 
structures originally excited by a peripheral stimulation. 
In other words, the cortical seat of the sensation and of the 
idea are the same. Such re-excitation is further supposed 
to be similar in its character to the original excitation, 
though of a less wide extent than this, since it does not in- 
volve the peripheral region of the nervous system. 

In the case of that partial or nascent revival which takes 
place in assimilation we have to conceive of the nervous 



H4 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



process somewhat after this manner. When a particular 
central element or cluster of elements is re-excited to a 
functional activity similar to that of a previous excitation, 
this new activity is somehow modified by the residuum of 
its previous activity or surviving ' physiological disposi- 
tion.' This modification is the only assignable nervous 
substrate of the consciousness of familiarity or recognition. 
In complete or Associative Revival the physiological 
process will be somewhat different. Here we suppose that 
the excitation of a central element (or group of elements), 
P, answering to the reviving stimulus, occasions by way of 
special lines of nervous connexion a re-excitation of a second 
element, Q, more or less remote from P, which answers to 
the revived psychical content. Thus, following the com- 
mon view, we conceive that, when the sight of the milk 
calls up in the child's mind the idea or representation of 
the taste and of the appropriate movements, the excitation 
of the child's visual centre transmits itself along certain 
nervous paths to the centres of taste and movement, pro- 
ducing a re-excitation of these centres. According to this 
view the building up of psychical connexions has for its 
physiological groundwork the formation of definite lines of 
nervous discharge. 

Unity of Elaborative Process. The process of 
psychical development is one organic process. We have 
already seen that the two processes, differentiation and as- 
similation, are inseparably connected. It remains to show 
the same thing with respect to each of these and the third 
process. 

(i) Beginning with differentiation, we can easily see 
that it goes on hand in hand with integration. Looked at 
in one way, differentiation is the initial process in associ- 
ation. In order to mentally connect two senations, say 
the tone C with the adjacent tone of the scale D, we must 
first discriminate them. Hence discrimination has been 
viewed by Bain and others as the most fundamental of the 
intellectual processes. 

At the same time it would be an error to suppose that 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



115 



we clearly apprehend differences among our sensations be- 
fore we begin to integrate them. As already remarked, 
sensations are given as complexes, and begin to be at- 
tended to as such, and so integrated before any careful 
analytic separation or discrimination of constituent parts is 
carried out. Thus the complex, warm — smooth — soft, cor- 
responding to the mother's breast, begins to be known and 
marked off from other complexes before the comparatively 
abstract or analytical apprehension of warm as a separate 
sensation (or quality of object) is reached. This is suffi- 
ciently attested by the fact that even after the child has 
come to the use of words it is some time before it begins 
to qualify things, that is, mark off single qualities by the 
use of adjectives. 

Not only does associative integration thus run on con- 
currently with, and even in advance of, differentiation, it is 
one means by which the latter is rendered more exact. 
That is to say, any two things which are only imperfectly 
distinguished will become better distinguished by taking on 
unlike associative adjuncts, and the greater and more im- 
pressive the associated differences, the greater the amount 
of their improving effect on the discrimination. Thus if 
we let a and a stand for two imperfectly-differentiated sen- 
sations, KM and XY for their associative adjuncts, it is 
easy to see that aKM and aXY will be more readily dis- 
tinguished than a and a apart. Instances of this will occur 
as we advance. 

(2) If now we inquire into the relation of assimilation 
to association, we find that the two proceed concurrently 
as organically-connected processes or parts of one process. 

It follows, to begin with, from what has just been said, 
that automatic assimilation (immediate reproduction) starts 
with a complex coherent mass rather than with its constitu- 
ent parts. Thus the child assimilates the sensation warm 
as an ingredient of a complex, e. g., warm body, warm milk, 
before it assimilates it separately. 

If now we look at the higher process of association 
(mediate reproduction), which involves distinct representa- 



n6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion or reproduction of sensations, we find that automatic 
assimilation forms the initial phase of the whole operation. 
Thus, before the child can, upon seeing the milk, recall the 
taste, etc., it must assimilate or recognise the presentative 
element, viz., the visual sensations, white colour, etc. As- 
similation is here the initial step of the whole process.* 

It may be added that retentiveness, which we have 
found to be the fundamental condition of associative repro- 
duction, must be assumed to be co-operating throughout 
the process of elaboration. Not only is it, as we have just 
seen, involved in automatic assimilation, it is involved also 
in a rudimentary form in the simplest type of differenti- 
ation ; for the conscious transition from one sensation to 
another and unlike one, as from cold to warm, obviously 
depends on the temporary survival of the antecedent sensation. 

The importance of retentiveness as a condition of this 
composite psychical process may be seen in another way. 
Each of the processes advances gradually, the new and 
higher stage pre-supposing and depending upon the lower 
stages. Thus every successive act of differentiation ren- 
ders possible a higher degree of the process through the 
subsequent persistence of its products. For example, by 
distinguishing the colour blue from other colours and re- 
taining this presentation as a distinct element, a child is 
prepared to take a new start, viz., in the direction of mark- 
ing off from one another this, that and the other variety 
of blue ; or, taking instead of single sensations the com- 
plexes which our experience gives us, we may say that the 

* This may be symbolised thus — 



where the large letter V stands for the presentative part (visual impres- 
sion), the small letter v in brackets for the residuum of past similar impres- 
sions which is excited by and at once coalesces with V, giving this its as- 
pect of familiarity or representativeness, and the other letters for the dis- 
tinct representative elements, taste, etc. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 1 1 7 

persistence of the first vaguely differentiated presentation 
of a flower as a whole, prepares the way for a more com- 
plete differentiation of it with this and that detail distinctly 
apprehended. It is this circumstance that is pointed to in 
the well-known maxims : ' Exercise strengthens faculty,' 
' Practice makes perfect.' 

Course of Development. 

Stages of Intellectual Development. Our analysis 
of the process of mental elaboration has now been carried 
sufficiently far to enable us to trace out in its main features 
the general course of intellectual development. 

This intellectual development may be described, agreea- 
bly to the general idea of development, as a progressive 
double movement of separation and combination, with the 
result of an emergence of more and more complex or 
highly elaborated products. This result is secured by the 
three constituent processes just described. 

Beginning then with an initial state of vague undiffer- 
entiated sensation or sentience, we find that the pro- 
gressive movement of the elaborative process gives rise 
to three successive products, which constitute advancing 
phases or stages of elaboration. These are Percepts or 
sense-intuitions, Images or representations of concrete ob- 
jects, and Thoughts or representations of general classes 
or abstract qualities. 

(1) The first stage in true cognition is reached when a 
mass of sensations has been differentiated, assimilated and 
integrated into a percept. By a percept is here understood 
the outcome of an act of sense-perception. Thus, when 
the child has reached the stage at which it has welded cer- 
tain sensations of taste, touch, and sight into a thing 
which it calls 'the milk,' it has a percept. Perception is 
the beginning of true cognition. It is the first and lowest 
stage in the organisation or unification of experience. As 
the content of a percept is to some considerable extent pre- 
servative, perception is commonly spoken of as Presenta- 
tive Cognition. 



H8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

(2) By an image is meant the ideal copy or representa- 
tion of the percept. We imagine an object, e. g., a picture 
or tune, when it is no longer present to sense. Images are 
thus marked off from percepts as wholly or purely repre- 
sentative, and hence the operation by which we form im- 
ages is spoken of as Representation or Representative 
Imagination. Such imagination is only possible after per- 
cepts have become sufficiently fixed or set. Its appearance 
is the full indication of the mind's retentive and reproduc- 
tive power. So far as the images are representative of past 
percepts, imagination does not add to, but simply preserves, 
cognition under a new or representative form. The child, by 
being able to imagine the dog barking, knows the fact not 
only when it happens to hear the sound, but afterwards. 

What is commonly called imagination, however, includes 
more than a mere revival of past percepts. In addition to 
this purely-reproductive imagination there is a productive 
imagination which involves a certain process of elabora- 
tion, as when we picture what is beyond the ken of the 
senses, e.g., Niagara, the signing of Magna Charta, by help 
of impressions gained through these. This productive 
imagination will be found to play an important part in the 
early extension of knowledge. 

(3) As the last stage we have thought-products, gen- 
eral notions or concepts, and judgments. This is the high- 
est stage of elaboration, since it involves the perfect or- 
ganisation and unification of experience in a general or 
universal form, and so in the form of a systematic and rea- 
soned knowledge. This stage is only reached after a cer- 
tain accumulation of images and a careful comparison of 
these. It thus presupposes not merely a considerable 
amount of previous differentiation, etc., but also the 
growth of the power of attention. A child cannot classify 
a number of unlike objects on the ground of a clearly- 
apprehended common attribute as round objects, transpar- 
ent substances, and so forth, because it cannot hold differ- 
ent percepts and images steadily before its mind so as to 
compare them. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



II 9 



The direction of this whole process of thought-develop- 
ment may be described as follows. It is a transition from 
presentation to representation, from immediate cognition 
through the senses to mediate cognition by way of ideas. 
Such a movement is plainly away from sense. It sub- 
stitutes for an outer sense-conditioned type of psychical 
activity an inner sense-detached type of activity. This 
detachment from sense appears already in imagination, 
which, though picturing the concrete and sensible world, 
does so apart from actual perception, and, as we may see 
in dreaming and childish reverie (day-dreaming) may give 
rise to another and disconnected ideal life. It shows itself, 
however, still more plainly in thought proper, seeing that 
here the mind no longer pictures concrete objects as they 
are known to sense, but represents them in an abstract way, 
that is, under certain selected aspects, e. g., form, and by 
help of word-symbols, 

Popularly we speak of the several stages of intellective 
elaboration, perception, imagination, and so forth, as dis- 
tinct faculties ; but, as was pointed out above, there is no 
such absolute separation of different orders of psychical 
process as the idea of distinct faculties implies. The stadia 
(in the intellectual movement) here marked off one from 
another do not constitute sharply-divided stages in the 
actual process of mental growth. Thus, the percept will 
be found to form itself little by little out of sensations, as 
these come to be gradually separated out and integrated 
into definite groups. Similarly the image first appears in 
a nascent, incomplete form as incorporated into the per- 
cept, as when in looking at a toy a child recognises it as 
the toy which he has lost and sought for ; and it only de- 
taches itself from its perceptual stem and attains to dis- 
tinctness and independence by degrees. In like manner the 
general notion evolves gradually out of the image, as may 
be seen in tracing the steps by which a child passes from 
its image of some particular bird, say the thrush or canary 
in his cage, to the general idea of the bird. 

Again, the actual course of intellectual development is 



120 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

not a simple succession of unlike phases, but a much more 
complex process. It involves a concurrent advance of the 
earlier phases after the later ones have been added. Thus a 
child goes on forming new percepts, and percepts of a more 
complex order, after it has begun to imagine and to think. 
This aspect of development may be expressed in every- 
day language by saying that there is a development of single 
faculties concurrently with the development of the sum of fac- 
ulties. 

Again, the development of the higher phases of intellection re- 
acts on the lower phases. Thus, as we shall see, percepts come 
to be overlaid not only with images answering to previous 
single percepts, but with those general notions which are a 
kind of mental epitome of a whole class of objects. In 
looking at a common object, such as a house, the leaf of a 
tree, a book, we immediately view it as a member or repre- 
sentative of a general class. In like manner, when observ- 
ing a natural phenomenon, the scientific observer recognises 
in it an illustration or fulfilment of a universal process of 
law. 

Development and Habit. Mental development im- 
plies not merely an advance from lower to higher psychical 
forms, but a growing rapidity and facility in all recurring 
or repeated processes. This result, already touched on in 
connexion with organic development, is an extension of the 
psycho-physical attribute, retentiveness. We carry out 
accustomed acts of perception, as in recognising a person, 
customary train of ideas, as in learning a series of histori- 
cal events, and habitual actions, as in swimming or skating, 
more and more rapidly, and with less and less strain of at- 
tention, just because of the organisation of the traces of 
previous like actions. So far as this organisation comes in, 
the conscious element grows weaker, and tends to lapse. 
To this extent habit would seem to imply no psychical, but 
only nervous development. 

This dropping out of the conscious factor as the con- 
sequence of repeated exercise and of habit is, however, 
only one part of the result. The tendency of repeated 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. I2 l 

psycho-physical processes to become automatic and uncon- 
scious sets free the activity of attention for further pro- 
cesses of psychical acquisition and growth. Indeed, it is 
only by this economising of attention or consciousness in 
the case of habitual processes that the more complicated 
psychical processes become possible. Thus it is by learn- 
ing to recognise first words, and then groups of words, 
swiftly and automatically, that we are able to carry out the 
difficult, complex intellectual processes of reading. 

Habit, as we shall see, has a narrower and a wider mean- 
ing. When it refers to the rigid fixing of ideas or actions 
in one definite order it is a force that opposes development. 
Habitual action or grouping of ideas means action or 
grouping which is with difficulty altered. This is seen in 
the case of the uneducated mind, which is narrow and rigid, 
just because it has formed certain fixed modes of associat- 
ing ideas through which it cannot now break. But taken 
in a larger sense, as including all the effect of repetition of 
psychical processes, habit is an integral factor in the pro- 
cesses of development itself; for it is only by retaining the 
traces of our past activity that we can render this activity 
more perfect. 

Development of Feeling and Willing. The de- 
velopment of the other two phases of mind, feeling and 
conation, follows the same general course, and exhibits the 
same underlying process. This results in a measure from 
the fact that the higher developments of feeling and cona- 
tion are bound up with and depend upon intellectual de- 
velopment. This will appear more plainly when we come 
to consider the precise character of these developmental 
processes. Here we may content ourselves by barely in- 
dicating the general agreement of the three directions of 
mental development. 

The growth of feeling, like that of cognition, begins 
with an external sense-element, viz., what we call a sense- 
feeling, and proceeds in the direction of internal states, viz., 
emotions, such as sympathy, or the agreeable sense of self- 
approval, which involve representation or ideation. This 



122 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

process of affective development, moreover, is, as we shall 
see, brought about by a double process analogous to that 
of intellectual differentiation and integration. 

In like manner, action begins with external bodily 
movement of an impulsive sense-prompted character, e.g., 
the movements growing out of sensations of appetite, and 
passes on to a higher type of reflective or deliberative ac- 
tion marked by internal processes of reflexion and rational 
choice, as the deliberate selection of a house, of a career. 
And here, again, we see the double process of differentia- 
tion and integration at work. The development of volition 
is throughout conditioned by the separating off or dis- 
criminating of particular movements and combinations of 
movements, e. g., those entering into speech, the finer sorts 
of manipulation. On the other hand, it proceeds by a pro- 
gressive integration of motor elements, as in simultaneously 
combining a number of finger movements in striking a 
musical chord on a piano, or following out a succession of 
movements, as those of a dance. 

Mental Development as Biological Process. As 
was shown in our sketch of the activities of the nervous 
system, psychical growth is correlative with and dependent 
on the formation of the more complex cerebral structures. 
Thus it is now known that all the higher intellectual pro- 
cesses (general thought) have as their physical substratum 
the growth of those particular centres and connexions be- 
tween these which constitute the special central organ of 
language. 

By thus connecting psychical with nervous development 
we are able to view it as one particular phase of organic 
development. This last process may be viewed as a pro- 
gressive adjustment of organism to environment due to the 
repeated exercise of that sum of functional activities which 
we call life. Such progressive adjustment has, it is obvious, 
a teleological significance. It is only as this adjustment is 
effected that the conditions of stable life, that is, of perma- 
nent self-preservation, are realised. The general course of 
psychical development is susceptible of being brought under 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



123 



this conception. The superinducement of the internal 
ideational upon the earlier sensational consciousness may 
be seen to involve a greater capacity of self-adjustive ac- 
tion. Thus, by imaging the remote results of our actions, 
e. g., on health or reputation, and by co-ordinating our 
particular experiences in the form of general rules, as 
the laws of health, we are able to carry out far-reaching and 
comparatively permanent forms of adjustment. The 
growth of intelligence is thus a progress towards a com- 
plete coping with our environment in its whole extent and 
complexity. 

While we may thus see a teleological significance in the 
gradual evolution of conscious life, we find the same aspect 
of purposiveness still more plainly illustrated in that lapse 
of consciousness which, as we saw above, attends all 
properly organised action (see p. 29). The phenomena of 
habit in the narrow sense, viz., sub-conscious and approxi- 
mately automatic processes, involve an enconomising of 
the neuro-psychical forces. A familiar action, as walking 
or eating, done automatically without any effort of atten- 
tion to the succeeding stages, is done at less cost than when 
such attention is necessary. Moreover, as automatic, that is, 
carried out without any preliminary reflexion, it is a swift and 
certain mode of response to the action of the environment. 

It follows that it will be advantageous to the organism 
that actions should be carried out in this way provided the 
circumstances are such as to require one unvarying mode of re- 
sponse. And this condition is justified by the laws of the 
foundation of habit. For, as we shall see more fully by-and- 
by, a habit tends to form itself as the result of repetitions 
of actions in one and the same form, e. g., dressing and un- 
dressing. We may thus say that in respect both of the do- 
main of habit and of fully conscious reflective action, as 
also of the distribution of action between these two do- 
mains, our mental life illustrates the principle of utility or 
purposiveness. We are best fitted to cope with our life- 
surroundings when we are able on the one hand to carry 
out all recurring uniform modes of responsive action easily, 



124 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



simply, and automatically, and at the same time to bring to 
bear a highly evolved reflective consciousness on new, 
difficult, and complex problems of life. 

Social Environment and Development. While we 
can thus bring the process of psychical development into 
connexion with the collective functions of the organism, 
and so with the action of the physical environment on 
this, we must not omit to point out how in its higher 
and more complete form it involves and is conditioned 
by the action of that other environment which is marked 
off as the Social or Human. The influence of this en- 
vironment is partly undesigned, as when a child is stimu- 
lated to imitate the words, actions, etc., of others, and 
partly designed or educative in the proper sense. The 
effect of it is seen throughout the whole process of in- 
dividual development, and more and more clearly as we 
approach the higher stages of it. Thus, even a child's 
perceptions are widened and improved in quality by the 
educative influence of others, as in pointing to objects 
and naming them. In like manner, the reproduction of 
past presentations is greatly aided by the circumstance 
that the individual's observations have much in common 
with those of others, and that as a result of this he can 
recall his experiences in association with others through 
the medium of language. The influence of the social en- 
vironment is still more apparent in the work of thought, 
which, as we shall see, is carried out by means of that 
great instrument of social life, language. All this higher 
plane of mental life is, indeed, only attained under the 
educating influence of a civilised community. 

In like manner, the higher feelings, e. g., sympathy, 
and reverence for the moral law, depend on social rela- 
tions, and in this way the development of feeling pre- 
supposes the action on the individual of the social en- 
vironment. Finally, the development of conation into its 
higher form of calm, rational action is brought about by 
help of the system of influences through which the com- 
munity works educatively on its members. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



125 



Factors in Development. It may be convenient to 
sum up the result of our examination of the processes of 
mental development by enumerating its principal factors. 
If we regard the development of an individual mind as 
a phase of organic development, and so related to the 
action of the environment, we may conveniently distin- 
guish two main co-operant factors, an Internal and an 
External. 

(a) By the internal factor is meant the sum of primi- 
tive psychical capabilities, together with the correlated 
nervous arrangements which constitute the basis or start- 
ing-point of a normal mental life. Thus it will include the 
psycho-physical endowments known as the senses, also the 
fundamental intellectual, and other functions. Further, if 
we suppose that acquired psychical aptitudes may be trans- 
mitted by inheritance, we shall include in the internal fac- 
tor those instinctive tendencies or dispositions to think, 
feel, and act, in particular ways, which the child of a civil- 
ised race inherits as the result of repeated actions of his 
progenitors. 

(b) By the External Factor we mean in the first place 
the physical environment or natural surroundings. The 
growth of intelligence, as also of feeling and of will, is 
conditioned by the action of the several physical agents, 
light, sound, etc., which stimulate our sense-organs, as also 
by the form and arrangement of things making up our nat- 
ural habitat. Lastly, in addition to this Natural or Physi- 
cal Environment, we have the Social Environment. 

The Development and the Training of the Mind. To know the 
processes by which knowledge is advanced and the mind attains to higher 
and higher forms of activity is a necessary preliminary to any methodical 
training of the mind. This holds good of the regulation of our own men- 
tal progress in self-education, and still more manifestly of the direction of 
others' mental activity in educational work. 

Confining ourselves to the educational problem, we may see the im- 
portance to the teacher of a proper understanding of each of the funda- 
mental processes, discrimination, assimilation, and association. As also of 
their modes of interaction. If, for example, a child fails to recognise an 
object the teacher ought to know the precise explanation, and this can 



126 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

only be found by considering the relation of recognition to retentiveness, 
and to discrimination. 

Of yet greater importance to the educator is the theory of the progress- 
ive stages of intellectual development. The teacher in all parts of his 
work is engaged in developing by suitable exercises particular modes of 
intellectual activity, as observation, reproduction, etc. Here the first 
requisite is an understanding of the psychological laws of growth. Thus 
the teacher who is aiming at exercising and developing the observing 
power must conform to the general condition that growth takes place by a 
series of graded exercises in which the result of the earlier activity assists 
the later and more difficult activity ; that while all growth is the result of 
repeated activity, unsuitable activity, as when excessive strain is involved, 
may, instead of furthering, hinder growth, and so forth. 

In the second place the whole scheme of training should conform to 
the natural development of the grades of intellectual activity. To use 
the popular language, those faculties which develop earliest must be 
exercised first. It is vain, for example, to try to cultivate the power of 
abstraction before the powers of observation and imagination have 
reached a certain degree of strength. This self-evident proposition is 
one of the best accepted principles in the modern theory of Education, 
though there is reason to apprehend that it is still frequently violated 
in practice. 

Writers on pedagogics have sought to divide early life into periods dis- 
tinguished by the predominance of certain grades of intellectual activity or 
faculties. Thus Beneke recognises four periods : (i) To about the end of 
the 3rd year, the period of sense and instinct in which the child is mainly 
engrossed with external things : (2) To about the end of the 7th year, in 
which internal mental activity comes up to and balances external activity 
(sense-perception) : (3) To the end of the 14th year, in which inner activ- 
ity becomes free of sense and gains a distinct ascendency over this : and 
(4) To the end of school life, in which the higher mental powers (thought) 
appear in fuller development. It is obvious however that all such demar- 
cations must be rough and inexact. The process of development is at 
once too continuous and too complex to allow of such sharp divisions, 
though it may be of practical value to adopt them as a rough con- 
trivance. 

Once more, a method of training based on scientific principles will aim 
not only at taking up a certain grade of mental activity at the right mo- 
ment, but also at cultivating it up to the proper point, and not beyond 
this. By this point is meant the level which answers to its rank or value 
in the whole scale of development. Thus, for example, in training the 
memory or the imagination we should inquire into its precise importance 
in relation to the attainment of knowledge and intellectual culture as a 
whole, and give to its exercise and development a corresponding amount 
of attention. 



PROCESS OF ELABORATION. 



REFERENCES FOR READING. 



127 



A systematic treatment of the processes of mental in connexion with 
organic development is given by H. Spencer, Principles of Psychology, 
especially vol. i. parts iii. and iv. The constituent processes in mental 
elaboration are dealt with by Ward, article " Psychology " (Encydop. 
Britann.). A brief statement of the characteristics of development as 
bearing on the work of the teacher will be found in Mr. Spencer's Essay, 
Education, chap. ii. The subject has also been discussed from an edu- 
cational point of view by Beneke, Erziehungslekre, i., p. 101, etc., and by 
G. F. Pfisterer, Pcedagogische Psychologic, § 2. 



PART III. 
INTELLECTION. 



CHAPTER VII. 

PERCEPTION. 

Sensation and Perception. Sensations, as we have 
seen, are not in themselves knowledge, but only the mate- 
rial for it. In order that knowledge may arise out of or by 
means of sensation, those processes of elaboration are ne- 
cessary which were described in the last chapter. 

The first stage of this complex process of elaboration 
is seen in those seemingly simple mental acts by which we 
refer a sensation (or a sensation-complex) to what is com- 
monly spoken of as the external world, in other words, 
localise it in some region of space. In its complete form 
this external reference implies that we regard the sensa- 
tion as the mark of a quality, e. g., colour, weight, which 
quality we assign to a particular object situated some- 
where in space; this object being viewed as external to, or 
distinct from, the mind which perceives it.* Thus we re- 
fer a sensation of sound of a certain kind to a particular 

* The reader should note the ambiguity of the word external. An ob- 
ject is external which lies outside our body in space. In the philosophical 
sense, however, any part of our body as a physical object is external to the 
mind, i. e., a part of the external (physical) world which is opposed to, and 
independent of, the internal world of mind. Since, however, mind is not 
in space at all, this last application of ' external ' and ' internal ' is clearly 
misleading (cf. pp. 2, 3). 



PERCEPTION. 



129 



direction in space, say to the right of us, and to a particu- 
lar object, say to a bell, and in doing so we attribute the 
sonorous quality (state of vibration) to this object. The 
first process may be called the localisation, the second the 
objectification of sensation. As we shall see presently, 
these two processes are closely connected. 

The two processes here spoken of, the localising and 
the objectifying of sensation, make up together what we 
commonly understand by Perception. Whenever we per- 
ceive a thing through or by means of the senses, we are 
thus assigning a sensation to a particular locality and a 
particular object. To perceive an orange, for example, is 
to refer a group of sensations of light and shade and colour 
to an object called an orange situated at a particular point 
in space. The result of this process, that is to say, the 
completed psychical product, is called a percept. 

It will at once be seen from this that perception is more 
of a mental process or an act of mind than sensation. In 
sensation (so far as we can imagine this apart from percep- 
tion) we are comparatively passive and recipient ; in per- 
ception we not only attend to the sensation (or sensations) 
discriminating and assimilating it, but pass from the im- 
pression to the object which it indicates or makes known. 

The meaning of the word perception, like that of the closely-related 
term sensation, has varied with different writers. In common life we use 
the expression for almost any kind of cognition, as when one says : " I per- 
ceive a similarity between two ideas," or " a connexion between premises 
and conclusion." And earlier thinkers employed the term in much the same 
way. Recent psychologists, however, agree in the main in restricting the 
word to that mental process by which we discern an external object byway 
of the senses. This cognition of outer things is sometimes called external 
or sense-perception, to distinguish it from the mind's cognition of its own 
states, which is named internal perception. 

Infra-organic and Extra-organic Localization of 
Sensations. While a process of localisation takes place 
in the case of all sensations, it has not always the same 
form. Thus, the lowest class, the organic sensations, are 
referred to a part of the organism itself, as when we local- 
ise a sensation of burning or tickling in a certain part of 



!30 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the skin. This may be called intra-organic localisation of 
a sensation. In the case of the special senses there is a 
further extra-organic localisation in close connexion with 
what we have called objectification, that is, reference to a 
thing or object. Thus we refer a sensation of colour to 
the surface of an object lying in a particular locality. In 
this case we do not separately attend to the sensation as 
such and apprehend its organic seat, but our mind passes 
at once from the sensation to what it signifies, viz., the pres- 
ence of an object in a particular region of (extra-organic) 
space, which object the sensation serves to qualify. What 
is commonly called perception is this reference of impres- 
sions of sight, touch, etc., under the form of qualities, as 
luminosity, hardness, to things external to the organism. 

Process of Perception. It may be confidently as- 
serted that in adult life we never experience a sensation 
which, provided it is sufficiently attended to and differenti- 
ated, we do not at once refer to an object in space. The 
reference maybe more or less definite and complete. Thus 
a sound may be referred to a particular object, as bel- 
fry, or only to some unknown object vaguely localised in 
space. But in a perfect or imperfect form such a reference 
always takes place. And it takes place so automatically 
and instantaneously that it is difficult for the student at first 
to distinguish the act of perception from the mere sensation. 
The reason of this habitual interweaving of a perceptual 
process with sensation will appear presently. 

There is every reason to suppose that this act of refer- 
ring impressions to things or objects in space, though ap- 
pearing to us so simple, immediate, and irresistible, is the 
result of a long process of acquisition or learning from ex- 
perience. An infant in the first weeks of life betrays no 
sign of recognising the bodily seat of his sensations of heat 
and cold, or the direction of sounds. Perception is prob- 
ably aided from the first by definite inherited tendencies; 
but it is only fully developed through the processes of in- 
dividual experience. 

Let us now analyse the process a little further. When 



PERCEPTION. 



131 



on hearing a particular sound we say : ' A bell is sounding 
in such a direction,' the beginning of the psychical process 
is manifestly the differentiation and assimilation of an audi- 
tory sensation. If we had never had an impression before 
similar to this in some respect we could not now refer 
it to a particular portion of space or to a definite kind of 
object. 

The second stage, that of perception proper, involves a 
process of integrative association. When we say (on the 
ground of an auditory sensation alone): 'I hear a sound 
over there,' it is because in our past experience this sensa- 
tion of hearing has become co-ordinated or associated with 
other sensations, muscular and tactual, by which we gain the 
idea of direction or position. And, further, in referring this 
sound to a bell, I am recalling a complex of sensations of active 
touch and sight corresponding to the bell. If I had never 
heard sounds in the same quarter before, and if I had never 
handled or seen a bell before, the present sensation would 
not be referred to this locality and this object. The per- 
cept is thus the result of a process of associative fusion, or 
organisation of a number of elements into one mass. 

As we have seen, all associative grouping of sense-ele- 
ments involves a germ of representation or ideation. In 
the case of the perceptual process it is manifest that the 
tactual and visual sensations answering to the touch and 
look of the bell are not actually present when we hear it 
and recognise it by the sound. They are revived or re- 
produced. In referring the impression of sound to the bell 
we are more or less distinctly representing or imagining the 
look and the touch of the bell. A part at least of our 
meaning in saying that we hear a bell in such a direction 
or at such a distance is that we know we might move in a 
particular way, say to the right, and come in view of, and 
into contact with, the bell, thus renewing these visual and 
tactual experiences. Hence perception has been described 
as " a presentative-representative process." 

While, however, perception is, when viewed historically, 
a process made up of a sensational and an ideational factor, 



132 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



it is, as already suggested, of the essence of the percept 
as a phenomenon of our developed consciousness, that it 
appears as a perfectly-welded sensuous whole. In cases of 
ordinary perception we do not consciously go through first 
a sensational then an ideational or interpretative stage : the 
two stages overlap and merge into a single momentary and 
apparently sensuous consciousness of seeing, of hearing, etc., 
which we call a percept or an intuition. 

The reasons of this merging or fusing of the two factors into the pecul- 
iar form of a percept have already been suggested. It is evident that we 
have here to do with associative cohesion of the highest degree of strength. 
The conjunctions of our sense-experience, e.g., the visual marks of smooth- 
ness (lustre, etc.) with the corresponding tactual consciousness, are among 
the most constant and most frequently renewed. But, again, the relation 
of the two associated factors in perception is a peculiar one. On the one 
hand the actual sensations are often of very little interest to us on their 
own account, and are attended to merely as signs of that which is of real 
moment. Hence a tendency to slur over the sensation and hurry on to the 
ideational significate, as in realising the tangible smoothness of a billiard 
ball when looking at it. This is an illustration of the general principle 
that attention moves from the less to the more interesting (cf, above, p. 93). 
While, however, the ideational element is thus reinstated and made prom- 
inent, the sensational element not only persists just because it is sensational, 
but gives to the whole psychical state its peculiar character, viz., vividness 
and directness. 

Definition of Perception. By aid of the foregoing 
brief analysis we may define perception as follows. Per- 
ception is a process of psychical elaboration, involving 
both presentative and representative elements. More par- 
ticularly, perception is that process by which the mind, after 
discriminating and classing a sensation or sensation-com- 
plex, supplements it by an accompaniment or escort of re- 
vived sensations, the whole aggregate of actual and revived 
sensations being integrated or solidified into the form of a 
percept, that is, an apparently immediate and sensuous ap- 
prehension of an object now present in a particular locality. 
This definition may be accepted provisionally. We shall 
be better able to judge of its appropriateness after we have 
carried our analysis of the perceptual process a stage 
further. 



TERCErTION. 



133 



Physiological Conditions of Perception. It would 
seem to follow from this definition of perception that it 
involves an extended cortical process. To begin with, in- 
asmuch as perception involves a certain persistence and 
intensification of the sensation, it will always call into play 
the motor apparatus which, as we have seen, is the special 
mechanism of attention, and more particularly include 
those muscular adjustments by which distinct sensations 
are obtained. Further, as we shall see presently, percep- 
tion of locality always involves a certain motor process, as 
when we hear a sound and experience an impulse to move 
the head in the direction of the sound. In addition to such 
motor elements, perception involves, as its nervous sub- 
strate, an extended area of sensory excitation. Thus the 
perception of the sounding bell by the ear manifestly im- 
plies that the centre of audition is co-ordinated with other 
centres, and more particularly the optical and tactual cen- 
tral tracts. Lastly, it is to be noted that the close implica- 
tion and partial coalescence of the representative with the 
presentative element in perception is presumably correlated 
with the fact of a perfect co-ordination of the cortical tracts 
engaged, as a result of which the whole process of excita- 
tion takes on the form of a single and approximately in- 
stantaneous nervous action. 

Special Channels of Perception. It has been ob- 
served that every sensation is interpreted by an act of 
perception, or, in other words, is worked up as an element 
into that complex mental phenomenon which we call a per- 
cept. Thus we refer sensations of smell to objects as when 
we say: ' I smell violets,' just as we refer sensations of 
light and colour to objects as when we say ' I see a candle.' 
Nevertheless, when we talk of perceiving we generally re- 
fer to knowledge gained at the time through one of the 
higher senses, and more particularly sight. To perceive a 
thing means in every-day parlance to see it. Where sight 
is wanting touch assumes the function of the leading per- 
ceptual sense. Sight and touch are thus in a special man- 
ner channels of perception. Hearing, though it has an 



134 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



important role as a perceptual sense, will be found to be 
distinctly inferior to these. 

The reason why the senses of touch and sight are thus 
distinguished has been hinted at in a previous chapter. 
We there saw that they were marked off from the other 
senses by the possession first of all of a system of clearly- 
defined local differences, and secondly of an exceptional 
variety of muscular experience. Owing to these circum- 
stances these two senses supply us with a wider and more 
varied knowledge of objects than the other senses. In 
smelling a flower I can only apprehend one aspect or qual- 
ity of a thing, its odour : in looking at it I instantly take 
in a number of aspects, as its colour, shape, and size. 

The additional knowledge, moreover, gained by means 
of the fine local discrimination of the skin and the retina, 
together with the accompanying movements, is of a most 
important kind. To begin with, what we mean by percep- 
tion in its simplest form is, as pointed out, localising or 
referring a sensation to a point in space. Now it is only 
touch and sight which can give us directly any considerable 
knowledge of space, of the situation of objects with refer- 
ence to one another and to ourselves. 

By means of these same endowments touch and sight 
can make known to us the space-qualities or ' geometric ' 
properties of bodies, viz., figure and magnitude. With these 
space-properties of bodies must be coupled the ' mechani- 
cal ' or force-properties, that is to say, resistance under its 
several forms of impenetrability, weight, etc., as made 
known by active touch. 

Now these qualities are of much greater importance 
than those made known by the other senses, such as the 
taste of a substance and the sonorousness of a body. We 
may be said to know more about an object when we have 
ascertained its shape or size than when we have heard its 
sound. 

The superior importance of such qualities as size, figure, 
and weight turns on a number of considerations. To be- 
gin with, all objects exhibit these attributes. What we 



PERCEPTION. 



135 



mean by a thing or a material body is constituted by figure, 
size, hardness and weight, etc. On the other hand, there 
are many things which have little or no smell or taste. 
Again, the former qualities are comparatively speaking 
constant or unchanging in the case of the same object. A 
stone is always the same as to its size, hardness and weight. 
On the other hand, a body is only sonorous when put into 
a particular condition of vibration, and a fragrant sub- 
stance varies considerably in the degree of its fragrance 
according to circumstances. Once more, different persons 
agree very much more respecting the size or weight of an 
object than respecting its taste or smell : the former im- 
pressions vary less with the state of the individual organ 
than the latter. Hence the former aspects of objects have 
been erected into a higher class under the name of ' Pri- 
mary Qualities,' while the latter have been marked off as 
'Secondary Qualities.' 

(a) Tactual Perception. 

Characteristics of Tactual Perception. Although, 
as has been observed, what we commonly mean by percep- 
tion is seeing an object, touch (by which we mean active 
touch) must be regarded as an important channel of per- 
ception, especially in early life. We obtain by means of 
this sense a larger amount of important knowledge respect- 
ing objects than by any other sense. The bulk, figure, 
hardness, weight of a thing are directly known to touch 
Hardness and weight are known only to this sense, and these 
qualities are obviously an important part of what we call 
material objects, or bodies. Hence we find that those who 
are born blind, and so thrown upon touch for nearly all 
their knowledge of material objects, acquire a wealth of 
information which astonishes the seeing man. Hence, too, 
the fact that even in the case of normal persons the sense 
of touch seems of all our senses to bring us into the closest 
relation to external things. It is for all of us the sense to 
which we make appeal when we want to be certain of a 
thing being present. We call a thing of whose reality we 



136 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



are sure something ' tangible.' Further, observation of chil- 
dren tells us that touching things is the way by which all 
of us have, in the first instance, come to know them. 
Hence we shall do well to study the process of perception 
first of all in this fundamental form. In order to under- 
stand this process we must, it is evident, suppose sight to 
be absent, as in the case of the blind. 

Tactual Perception of Space. As already remarked, 
we may come to know about the various localities of our 
body, as also the positions, distances, etc., of extra-organic 
objects, by help of active touch alone. We have now to 
inquire how these tactual space-intuitions arise. 

We here set out with the supposition that when the 
baby first touches a surface, say that of its mother's body, 
it has not a space-consciousness such as a grown person 
would have in like circumstances. What this primitive 
consciousness amounts to we can only form a very vague 
conjectural idea. As pointed out above, there would be 
something in the experience answering to extensity or 
spread, though this would probably not at first be differen- 
tiated from intensity. Whatever this amounts to, it seems 
certain that other elements must be added to, and integra- 
tively interwoven with, this primal " bigness," before our 
definite space-consoiousness becomes possible. This new 
element is supplied by motor experience, that is to say, the 
sum of those muscular sensations, and groupings of muscu- 
lar sensations, which attend movements of our limbs. 

This being so, we may best begin our genetic account 
of the tactual space-consciousness by inquiring what modes 
of consciousness having a spatial or ^lasi-spatial character 
our motor experience yields us. Having considered these 
apart we may go on to trace out the effect of their combi- 
nation with those aspects of passive touch which we have 
marked off as extensity and the correlated local differences 
of sensation. 

(a) Limb-Movement as Source of Space-Con- 
sciousness. In order to understand the help given by 
movement we will make the fanciful supposition that the 



PERCEPTION. I3 j, 

child has, instead of an extended hand, only one finger-tip, 
so that he is able to have only one tactual sensation at a 
time. This sensitive point he would carry from one point 
of space to another just as the insect can carry one of its 
antennae. 

Every movement which he would thus perform is, as 
we saw above, accompanied by a continuous series of 
changes in certain groups or complexes of sensation. This 
series, as soon as it becomes attended to as a whole, con- 
stitutes his first rough consciousness of that movement. 
The character of this series of sensation-changes will, as 
pointed out, vary according to the direction of the move- 
ment. Thus in carrying his finger from his breast to a point 
a little in front of him, say the edge of a table, he has one 
distinctively-coloured series of sensation-changes.* More- 
over, a movement having a range of two feet will plainly 
give rise to a different (that is, longer) series from that of 
another movement of the same direction having only half 
this range. 

Owing to the action of the primary law of retentiveness 
the preceding members of the series would persist along 
with, and overlap, the succeeding. Accordingly, when the 
movement was completed, and the limb brought to a stand- 
still, the group of sensations answering to this position 
would be supplemented by the representative residua of the 
preceding members of the series. This combining of the 
surviving traces of the earlier sensations with the final sen- 
sation involves a measure of that complication of presenta- 
tive with representative elements in which the perceptual 
process consists. Hence we may say that it would supply 
the materials for a rudimentary perception of a movement of 
a given direction and range. 

In this way, then, a sensation of contact would be (ex- 
tra-organically) localised by being attached as immediate 
consequent to an experience of movement. In other words, 
the child would begin to say, ' I touch something there,' be- 

* It is assumed that the point from which the explorer sets out is some 
ill-defined area of the chest. 



jig OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

cause he would begin to realise that the sensation of con- 
tact follows and depends on a movement of a particular 
direction and range away from his own body as starting- 
point. 

This series of sensations would become solidified, and 
the resulting perception more complete, by repetitions of 
the movement. Each time the child executes this particu- 
lar movement he would experience the same sequence of 
sensations; and in this way they would become more 
firmly coherent, and grow solidified into one indivisible 
whole. 

Such mere successions of sensation would not, however, 
give our imaginary child any perception of space as made 
up of co-existent points or positions. A step would be taken 
towards a vague apprehension of such spatial co-existences 
by further variations of the motor experience. Thus the 
effects of changes in velocity would prove instructive. By 
varying the pace of the movement the child finds that the 
duration of the several distinguishable sensations, and of 
the series as a whole, becomes shorter or longer. The in- 
terval between the initial and final sensations, answering 
to the initial and final positions of the limb, varies indi- 
rectly with the amount of energy thrown into the muscles. 
In this way the series would come to be recognised as a 
fixed order in time, the duration of which can be varied indefi- 
nitely. And this would serve to differentiate the motor suc- 
cession from an ordinary time-sequence, such as that of 
sounds. 

A new and much more important element would be 
added by the experience of reversing the movement. In 
carrying his finger from a point B, say on the edge of a 
table, immediately in front of him, to his starting-point A, 
his own body, the child has a different experience. New 
antagonistic muscles are here called upon to contract, while 
those previously contracted are relaxed. At the same time 
the sensations answering to the successive positions of the 
hand (so far as they depend on changes of pressure on 
skin and joint, and also on the ratio of the activities of the 



PERCEPTION. 139 

opposed muscles) would be the same as before, only the 
order would be reversed. This fact of reversibility would 
serve in a much more effectual way to differentiate the 
complex motor experience from a mere succession in time, 
if not to suggest the idea of spatial co-existence or co-ex- 
tension. 

By repetitions of this complementary pair of movements, 
together with other complementary pairs corresponding to 
other points of space, the child would gradually acquire 
motor experience answering to the several regions imme- 
diately environing him, and these acquisitions would later 
on be supplemented by the addition of the movements of a 
second arm, and, what is still more important, of leg-move- 
ment or locomotion. 

In very much the same way as he finds out the relative 
situations of different objects, such as the several pieces of 
furniture in a room, the child might discover the shape and 
size of an object. Thus he could pass his finger over a 
book-cover in different directions. In so doing he would 
have not only two tactual sensations at the beginning and 
end of his excursion, as he had before, but an unbroken 
series of tactual sensations accompanying the series of 
motor sensations. And this new experience would bring 
into view the distinction between empty space as mere room 
for movement {cf. German Raum) and occupied space, or 
space as bounded and hemmed in by an extended and re- 
sisting surface. * 

In this case, too, by varying the velocity of the move- 
ment, by reversing it, as also by executing a number of 
movements in different directions, he might possibly reach 
a rudimentary perception of a fixed order of tangible points 
or an extended surface. The range of this touch-accom- 
panied movement in different directions would determine 
his idea of the figure and size of this surface. This per- 

* We see from this that the development of the perception of space 
is closely connected with that of the apprehension of materiality or 
resisting impenetrable substance. This connexion will be brought out 
later. 



140 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ception would be rendered still more distinct by passing 
the finger along the outline or contour of the surface. 

In this way a dim apprehension of what we mean by the 
space-order might be obtained by movement alone. What 
this would amount to, however, it is impossible for us to 
conceive. Everybody's tactual acquaintance with space is 
gained by help of the extended surface of his skin includ- 
ing that of the hands, with the correlated local differences 
of sensation at this and that point. Thus, when an object 
comes into contact with any part of the body, we instantly 
know of its whereabouts through our apprehension of the 
particular locality of the skin acted on. So, in spreading 
the hand on an object, we instantly recognise the relative 
positions of its several parts through a localisation of the 
several tactual sensations at the corresponding skin-points. 
This definite localisation of skin-sensations is here assumed 
to be acquired, and acquired by means of experiences of 
movement. It remains to show how this grafting on to the 
original (local) differences of definite local significations by 
the agency of motor experiences may be brought about. 

{b) Localisation of Skin-Sensations. And here we 
must bring into view what we have hitherto left out of 
sight, viz., the fact that the child explores his own body, or 
rather the accessible regions of it, just as he explores bodies 
external to it. Thus, setting out from the same hypo- 
thetical starting-point, the level of his chest, he carries his 
finger-point now to his mouth, now to his other hand, now 
to his foot, and so forth, and by touching the particular 
part he excites in it a sensation having a peculiar local 
character.* These movements are for the same parts of 
the body (so long as they do not move) the same in respect 
of direction and of range. In this way experience serves to 
connect with each of the original (local) differences among 
the skin-sensations a definite experience of movement, and 
such an association would, it is evident, serve to give not 

* It is assumed here that the primitive movements referred to are car- 
ried without aim. The nature of these ' random ' movements will be ex- 
plained more fully by-and-by. 



PERCEPTION. 



141 



only greater definiteness of character but also a new signi- 
ficance to the primitive difference. 

Other motor experiences would co-operate in thus 
rendering definite and spatially significant the primitive 
differences of the skin-sensations excited at different points. 
Thus, movements over the skin from point to point in 
different directions, varied in velocity and reversed as al- 
ready explained, would serve to render much more definite 
the spatial relation of one skin-point to another. In this 
way the left eye would be recognised as left in relation to 
the right by movement from the latter in what we know as 
the left direction. Again, movements of a dermal surface 
over a fixed object-point, as in sliding the palm of the hand 
over the stationary extremity of a pencil, would still further 
subserve the translation of the primitive local differences 
of sensational character into motor differences. 

In these various ways the obscure differences among the 
sensations answering to the several distinguishable skin- 
points would become spatially defined by being complicated 
with clearly-distinguished motor experiences. That is to 
say, all sensations arising from a particular point P on the 
skin would now be transformed into complexes, in which 
the presentative tactual element (with its original local 
character) has become overlaid and fused with a group of 
representative elements.* 

(c) Simultaneous Perception of Points : Tactual 
Intuition of Surface. As soon as this localisation of 
skin-sensations at different regions of the body is learned, 
the tactual perception of surrounding space, and more par- 
ticularly of the extended surface of objects, will take on a 
more definite and perfect form. When the child now 
spreads out his hand over a surface, say the book-cover, he 
will no longer get merely a vague sense of bigness or 'ex- 
tensive magnitude,' but a system of touch-impressions, each 

* If we let j stand for any sensation received by way of the point P, rr 
or the primitive local character, and m for the representation of a definite 
movement, or group of movements, we may say that the sensation is now 
symbolised by the complex of symbols mirs. 



142 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



of which has a separate and distinct local significance. By 
such a simultaneous group of definitely-localised touch- 
sensations the knowledge of space as made up of parts co- 
existing side by side would be rendered far more distinct. 
For the first time the space-order would now be clearly 
differenced from a mere time-order, or a renewable and 
variable succession. We may say, then, that the tactual per- 
ception of space is a product of two factors, viz., muscular sensa- 
tion has proper and certain discrete contact-sensations which 
acquire spatial significance through association with movement. 

(d) Other Modes of Space-Perception : Solidity, 
etc. It has already been pointed out that the tactual per- 
ception of space includes a complete apprehension of it in 
its three dimensions, that is to say, of depth of space or dis- 
tance from the observer, as well as the two surface dimen- 
sions. In moving the hands away from and towards a fixed 
point in his own body, the child discovers the direction 
and distance of objects relatively to this starting-point. 
Similarly, by passing his hand along a receding object, say 
the horizontal surface of a table, he would acquire a per- 
ception of its several parts as nearer and further, advanc- 
ing and receding. 

The appreciation of the third dimension enters into the 
perception of the solidity or bulk of objects. Thus a blind 
child would estimate the receding direction of a table by 
movements of the hand over its surface away from his body. 
A more definite and complete perception of solidity would 
be gained by help of simultaneous tactual sensations. 
Thus, in the case of a very small object, as a ruler, a child 
can grasp it with one hand ; if larger, as a ball, he can clasp 
it between his two hands; if still larger, as a cushion, he 
can fold it within his arms. In so doing he experiences a 
multitude of touch-sensations which are instantly localised 
with reference one to another, and along with these a 
number of muscular sensations . which immediately make 
known to him the bent position of his hands and arms. 
And thus he reaches at once a clear perception of the 
object as a solid or cubical body, having bulk. 



/ 



PERCEPTION. 



143 



It is evident from this that the formation of the hu- 
man hand and arm, with the possibility of grasping and 
enfolding movements, is all-important for the develop- 
ment of the perception of solid objects. It is probable 
that other animals, as the bear, the elephant, and pre- 
eminently the monkey, endowed with the necessary grasp- 
ing organ, acquire a measure of this knowledge; yet this 
is presumably greatly inferior to that reached by man. 

Closely connected with the perception of space is the 
discrimination of unity and plurality of objects. In gen- 
eral we may say that a single object allows of, and can 
be known by, continuity of surface, and a complete contour. 
Thus, a child knows his ball or his book as one object by 
passing his hand about it and finding out the continuity and 
enclosing character of its surface. In the case of a plural- 
ity of objects, on the other hand, there is no such continu- 
ity, or single limiting contour. In passing the hand from 
one toy-brick to another the child has its sensation of con- 
tact interrupted. 

Experience would help to perfect discrimination by sup- 
plying a knowledge of the relative positions of points of the 
bodily surface, and of the alterations of these by move- 
ments of the organs, as in bending the fingers, or bring- 
ing the hands together. In this way the child would 
learn to interpret the double sensation of contact of two op- 
posite skin-surfaces, e.g., the anterior surface of the thumb 
and the fingers, or the two palms, as answering to one 
solid object. On the other hand, he would in general 
ascribe two simultaneous impressions of contact by way 
of non-opposed surfaces, as the palm- and the back of the 
hand, to two objects.* 

Along with these perceptions of space, and of one and 

* This tendency is illustrated in the familiar experiment of crossing 
two fingers, as the third and the fourth, and placing a pea or other small 
object between them. Under these circumstances we seem to be touching 
tzvo objects, because we are getting impressions by skin-areas which under 
normal conditions, i. e., when the fingers are not crossed, are ' non-op- 
posed.' 



144 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



many objects in space, the child would gain the perception 
of things as moving, or as changing their position. This 
would take place by following the moving object with the 
hand. The perception of 'objective,' as distinguished from 
' subjective movement ' (that is to say, of the movement of 
the object, and not simply of the hand), would be based on 
two distinctive characters of the experience. First of all, 
in following a moving object with the hand he would ex- 
perience one uniform touch-sensation, and not a change of 
tactual sensation with faint sensations of resistance and 
obstruction of movement, as in the case of moving the 
hand over a surface ; and, in the second place, he would in 
the former experience recognise that the direction and ve- 
locity of the movement were determined for him, and not 
by him, as in the latter experience. The full recognition 
of the movement as such, i.e., as a change of position, 
would only arise as the tactual space-perception developed. 

Perception of Material Quality : Impenetrability. 
Closely connected with the perception of space, and devel- 
oping concurrently with this, is the perception of material 
quality, impenetrability or corporeality. This perception, 
in its various modes, as that of hardness, is derived from a 
peculiar variety of muscular experience. A child comes to 
know that the table is a material substance by pressing its 
hand against it. Here there are certain muscular sensa- 
tions due to the process of contraction, accompanied by 
sensations of pressure, which last increase directly as the 
sensation of muscular tension increases. The initial vo- 
litional impulse does not in this case issue in the experience 
of movement, but of impeded or thwarted movement or of 
resistance. We may say, then, that the fundamental ex- 
perience underlying the perception of material reality is 
that of thivarted impulse to move, or of obstacle to movement. 

Now, a like experience of arrested movement, and of 
pressure varying with the effort, occurs when two of our 
own moving organs, say the two hands, oppose one another. 
And in this case it is evident that we have a sense of mus- 
cular exertion or strain in each of the two members. When 



PERCEPTION. 



145 



a second person opposes our movement we attribute to 
him an analogue of that active consciousness of which we 
are the subject when we obstruct our own movements. 
And it seems highly probable that even in the case of in- 
animate objects, when the child refers 4;he obstruction of 
his movements to something real and external to himself, 
he is carrying out a similar mode of inference. In other 
words, he finds the explanation of his arrested action in 
the opposing action of a " force " analogous to that which 
his own active consciousness suggests to him when he him- 
self arrests the action of one limb by that of another. 

This perception of material body or reality becomes 
specialised in a number of modes, according to certain va- 
riations of the experience. Thus the difference between 
hard and soft, and the difference, so far as made known to 
active touch, between a rigid solid and a fluid, turn on the 
fact that increase of muscular effort is now futile, giving 
rise only to increased sensation of pressure, and is now 
productive of movement accompanied by sense of obstacle 
or friction. Similarly, the difference between a non-elastic 
and an elastic substance, as clay and india-rubber, turns on 
the difference in the reaction. An elastic body is that 
which will yield to effort, but at the same time maintain its 
resistance under the form of a tendency to recover its for- 
mer position or shape. 

Connexion between Ideas of Body and Space. 
Although, for purposes of clear exposition, we have traced 
out the development of the perception of space as if it pre- 
ceded that of material body, we have to remember that the 
two are mutually implicated and develop pari passu. The 
child does not first find its way to an intuition of empty 
space and then begin to mentally place objects therein. 
The rudimentary idea of body gained by touch and muscu- 
lar effort is quite as early as the first idea of space gained 
by movement and touch. Each perception grows distinct, 
partly by opposition to, partly by the assistance of, the 
other. 

It has been already pointed out that contact following 
10 



I4 6 OUTLINES OF .PSYCHOLOGY. 

upon movement serves to define the boundary of the lat- 
ter. And this it does by a sharply-contrasting experience, 
viz., that of free movement and the arrest of movement 
or of resistance. By finding its arm-movement suddenly 
brought to an end by contact with something hard or re- 
sisting, the child gains a first crude knowledge of the dis- 
tinction between empty and occupied space (vacuum and 
plenum), or between space as room, and resisting body in 
space. 

But not only do the two perceptions define one another 
by way of opposition, they aid one another's development. 
Thus it is the experience of resistance, giving, as explained 
above, a rudimentary knowledge of materiality or body, 
that serves to invest space with its outness or externality, 
that is, its independent reality. This is manifestly so in 
the case of touching objects and gaining a knowledge of 
their figure and size. The perception of a surface as made 
up of a system of co-existing parts involves the idea of a 
certain extent of resistance corresponding to a certain 
range of movement in various directions. In other words, 
extension as an attribute of real bodies derives its external 
reality from its close and inseparable association with the 
experience of resistance. And since, as we have seen, the 
perception of (empty) space is definitely related to, and 
conjoined with, that of resisting objects, it can easily be 
understood how much the whole perception of space or 
extension owes to that of material reality or body. 

Other Modes of Tactual Perception. Closely con- 
nected with the perception of material quality or impene- 
trability is that of Weight. This, too, involves a sensation 
of contact, and (when the supporting hand or other mem- 
ber is not itself supported) the muscular sense. In esti- 
mating the weight of a small body, as is our custom, by 
lifting it in the hand, we find that the heavier the body the 
greater is the exertion required to support it (as measured 
by the muscular sensations), as also the attendant sensa- 
tions of pressure. Great weight means much muscular 
strain, i. <?., intense muscular sensations and correspondingly 



PERCEPTION. ^7 

intense sensations of pressure. The co-operation of this 
last factor with muscular sensation is seen conspicuously 
in lifting a body by means of a string, when increase of 
pressure, acting now on a smaller area of the skin, makes 
itself felt by a distinctly painful sensation. 

Another important tactual perception of quality is that 
of roughness and smoothness of surface in their several 
degrees. The roughness of a surface, as that of a piece of 
undressed stone, may be recognised to some extent by 
merely laying the outspread hand on the surface. In this 
case the perception of roughness arises by means of the 
different intensities of the sensations of pressure received 
by way of different points of the hand, and definitely local- 
ised in these points. This experience at once suggests in- 
equalities of surface, projecting and receding points. But 
the perception is much more distinct when the hand moves 
over the surface. In this case the unevennesses make 
themselves known as impediments to movement. A rough 
surface is thus one which offers resistance to movement 
over it, whereas a smooth surface, as that of marble, is one 
over which the hand glides easily. 

Integration of Tactual Perceptions : Intuition of 
Thing. By means of the several experiences of Active 
Touch here described, a child receiving no help from sight 
might, as we know from the observation of those born 
blind or who very early lose their sight, acquire a clear ap- 
prehension of what we mean by a thing or object. A word 
or two must suffice by way of showing what this involves. 

First and foremost, then, in such a child's tactual intuition 
of object would be the conjoined per ception of spatial quality (po- 
sition, figure, and size), and of materiality . The first crude idea 
of object would be the experience of a continuous system 
of resistances definitely localised. Thus the child's ball as 
object makes itself known primarily as an integrated clus- 
ter of experiences of movement (toward the object and 
over its surface), contact, and resistance. And these sev- 
eral elements are recognised as related to one another in a 
definite way. Thus movements towards the object are 



I4 8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

followed by the sensations of contact, which, again, are ac- 
companied by the experience of thwarted movement on the 
continuance of the muscular action. 

The perception of other qualities, as roughness of sur- 
face, temperature, becomes combined with this fundamental 
perception and so taken up into the intuition of thing as a 
whole. This involves the reference of the corresponding 
sense-experiences to the same locality as the resistances. 
Thus the child projects the sensation of cold and of 
smoothness into the thing, the marble, because they occur, 
along with the sensations of touch and resistance, in close 
connexion with, and dependence upon, certain definite 
movements. The perception of an object as a unity is thus pri- 
marily determined by a reference of its several qualities to one 
definite region of space and the connected fundamental experience 
of material substance or reality. 

The apprehension of thing grows more distinct by the 
development of the knowledge of persistence or continuity 
in time. This implies repeated experiences, and a discov- 
ery of certain constant elements and relations among these. 
Thus, as long as the object remains where it is relatively 
to the child, the group of experiences underlying the ap- 
prehension of its qualities will recur as often as certain 
movements, stretching out the hand, lifting, etc., are car- 
ried out. 

The apprehension of persistent object is further aided 
by the experience which the child obtains in connexion with 
his own body. This is not only an object which is always 
present to some extent to touch : it discloses its persist- 
ence indirectly through the persistence of the sensations 
connected with, and localised in, its several regions. It is 
probable, as we have seen, that a child mentally fashions 
other objects on the model of his own body, endowing 
them with sensations analogous to his own ; and if this is 
so, we can understand the more readily how he comes to at- 
tribute persistence or continuous existence to these objects. 

The full knowledge of unity and persistence of object presupposes the 
experience of the movement of ourselves and of objects, and the attendant 



PERCEPTION. 149 

changes of position. The cluster of qualities composing an object only 
becomes clearly discriminated from other clusters by movement. Thus the 
spoon becomes isolated as a single object when it is found that it yields 
the same group of experiences whatever its local relations to the cup and 
other objects. The same experience of movement and change of position 
would extend the idea of persistence by showing that objects continue to 
exist somewhere after changing their position. It is highly probable that, 
to the infant mind, the disappearance of an object is tantamount to its an- 
nihilation. It is only a wider experience, familiarising it with changes of 
locality, which enables it to reach the idea of persistence, or identity of ob- 
ject as we understand it. 

Such a tactual intuition as that described would supply 
a sufficient means of distinguishing and recognising objects 
apart from sight. Thus a blind child, by the complex of 
experiences gained on touching an orange, is able to recog- 
nise the object as an orange, thus reinstating by means of 
active touch other sense-experiences, as those of smell and 
taste. 

This tactual intuition involving a complex group of sen- 
sations would be a highly presentative mode of perception. 
We have now to pass to a mode of perception where the 
representative element is much more preponderant over the 
presentative than in the case of tactual perception. 

(b) Visual Perception. 

Tactual and Visual Perception. While, as we have 
just seen, tactual perception is the most direct mode of 
apprehending things, it is limited in its range at any one 
moment. Our imaginary blind child would be able to per- 
ceive directly at any one time only a small portion of the 
external world, namely, those objects which were within 
his reach and capable of being simultaneously touched. 

Visual perception stands in marked contrast to this di- 
rect but limited mode of apprehension. In normal circum- 
stances seeing is, as has been remarked, the customary 
mode of perception. It greatly transcends touching in the 
range of its grasp of external things. Thus in vision we 
apprehend objects not only near us, but at vast distances 
from us, such as the heavenly bodies. Again, by sight we 



150 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



are capable of apprehending in a single moment a wide 
field of objects in different directions and at different dis- 
tances from us, that is to say, a whole region of the exter- 
nal world. 

The predominance of visual perception is illustrated by a number of 
facts. In smelling, tasting, or touching an object which we do not see, the 
corresponding visual presentation (visual form with colour more or less dis- 
tinct) is instantly recalled. Similarly a name always suggests to our mind 
first of all, and most irresistibly, the visual appearance of a thing. And 
this holds good with respect to objects which are of most interest to us in 
relation to other senses. Thus the word ' bell ' calls up the bell-form before 
the bell-sound, the word ' orange,' the particular form and colour of the 
fruit before its taste. 

The resources of sight, more particularly the capability 
of the retina of receiving a multitude of finely differenti- 
ated local sensations, and the delicate movements of the 
eyes, enable this sense to develop a highly-complex mode 
of perception of its own. A clear understanding of the 
true function of sight as a means of perception will, how- 
ever, compel us to adopt the idea first clearly set forth by 
Berkeley, that in seeing objects in space the sense of sight 
is greatly aided by that of touch. 

We will first trace out the development of an independ- 
ent Visual Perception. After this we may study that more 
complex mode of perception which arises through the asso- 
ciative integration of experiences of Touch and Sight. 

Visual Perception of Space. Here, as in the case of 
touch, we set out with the supposition that there is a primi- 
tive appreciation of extensive magnitude and a discrimina- 
tion of plurality of sensations. Our visual idea of space, 
position of objects, and so forth, is obtained by help of the 
retinal discrimination of these. At the same time, this pri- 
mordial distinctness of sensation answering to different 
retinal points only takes on a definitely spatial or local sig- 
nificance by the addition of movement. 

In order, then, to understand the development of the 
visual perception of space, we may proceed, as in the case 
of tactual perception, to inquire into the nature and results 



PERCEPTION. 151 

of the experiences immediately connected with movements 
of the eyes. And for the sake of simplifying the problem 
we will suppose that a child has but one eye, and that this 
eye has but one sensitive retinal point, the yellow spot or 
area of perfect vision. 

(a) Ocular Movement as Factor in Space-Con- 
sciousness. The eye is capable of rotating in various di- 
rections, as to the right, upwards, and so forth, all such 
movements being resolvable into rotations about three 
axes, viz., a vertical axis, and two other horizontal axes. 
These movements, which are executed by means of a sys- 
tem of six muscles, serve to bring the yellow spot opposite 
to different points of the field. This is commonly described 
as turning or directing the line of vision (/. e., a line devi- 
ating slightly from the optic axis) from one point to 
another. 

In performing any particular movement our imaginary 
child, moreover, would experience a series of sensations 
analogous to those experienced in carrying the finger-tips 
from point to point of space. Thus in moving the eye 
from a point A in the field of vision to a point B to the 
right of it he would experience a series of sensations of 
movement of a definite character. Here, too, the final sen- 
sation answering to the position of the eye at the close of 
the movement, supplemented by the representation of the 
preceding members of the series, would supply materials 
for a rudimentary perception of movement of a particular 
direction and range, and in this case, as in that of arm 
movement, changes of velocity, and reversion would aid in 
developing the consciousness of a spatial order. 

In this way the child might explore the field of vision 
or map out the several positions of visible points on a 
plane surface, or in space of two dimensions. In a similar 
manner by passing the line of vision over the surface of a 
body in different directions, and about its contour, he 
would acquire a vague knowledge of its extension and the 
form and magnitude of the surface. 

(b) Simultaneous Retinal Perception. Let us now 



152 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

suppose the child's eye to be supplied with its extended 
retinal surface, and its innumerable nerve-elements, together 
with the correlated extensity and plurality of sensations. 
The movements just described would now serve, as in the 
case of touch, to develop this primordial discrimination 
into a true appreciation of locality or position in space. 

It is evident that, being thus endowed with a retina, our 
little explorer in carrying the axis of its eye from one part 
of the field to another would not instantly lose sight of a 
point as soon as his eye passed on to another, but would 
continue to see it in what is called indirect vision. Thus, 
in moving from the centre to a point on the circumference 
of the wheel, the retinal image of the former point would 
slide over a succession of retinal points. That is to say, 
the child would continue to receive the impression of this 
point (with decreasing degrees of distinctness), varied, how- 
ever, by a succession of distinct accompaniments in the 
shape of the original differences of sensation corresponding 
to distinct retinal points. In like manner, the point of the 
circumference towards which he was moving would be seen 
' indirectly ' (with increasing degrees of distinctness) before 
the eye was fixed on it in ' direct ' vision. 

This conjoined experience of ocular movement and of 
varying (retinal) impression would lead to the ordering 
of visual sensations in space much in the same way as in 
the case of manual movement. Let us imagine any point 
P lying on the retina to the right of the centre C and hav- 
ing its own original difference of local colouring, say tt. 
Then, if we suppose the eye to be moved at first aimlessly 
or at random,* it would happen that the sensation its an- 
swering to P would be transformed into a distinct sensa- 

* How far the primitive movements of the eye here referred to are, 
strictly speaking, random, is a matter of dispute. According to some, an 
impression received by way of a point on the peripheral portion of the 
retina tends originally and by means of reflex arrangements to excite a 
movement which would bring the yellow spot opposite the object. Ac- 
cording to this view, localisation of retinal sensations is in a measure in- 
stinctive. 



PERCEPTION. 153 

tion, say cs, whenever the line of vision chanced to move in 
the required way, so as to transpose the retinal image to 
the yellow spot. By such motor experiences the child finds 
out that all sensations having the original local aspect w 
can be brought up to the point of maximum distinctness by 
carrying out a movement (either of the eye or of the head) 
of a particular direction and range. As a result of this 
there is now developed a tendency, on the recurrence of a 
sensation its, to move the eye in the required direction. 
Thus on seeing a light enter the room to the left of the 
field he tends to move his eyes (or his head) a certain dis- 
tance to the left. And this shows that all sensations corre- 
sponding to this particular nerve-elemetit are now accompanied by 
a representation of the movement necessary to a fuller realisation 
of them in direct vision. This addition of the representation 
of a definite movement would serve to give the sensations 
a special local significance.* 

Through numberless variations of these movements in 
different directions, the visual impressions corresponding to 
the other retinal points would be similarly localised with 
reference to the central point of the field, and also with 
reference to one another. As a result of these integrative 
associations our child would now be able with his eye at 
rest to apprehend or take in simultaneously an extended 
field of objects, the various points of which are instantly 
localised, one above or below another, to the right or to 
the left of it, and at a certain distance from it. As a fur- 
ther consequence the form and size of an object would be 
recognised 'at a glance,' and without carrying out any 
movement at the moment. The delicacy of the eye's per- 
ception of form corresponds to what we know of the local 
discriminative sensibility of the retina, as also of the dis- 
criminative muscular sensibility. f 

* Here, too, the integrative complication of the sensation s may be rep- 
resented by the group of symbols mirs. It is to be noted that the move- 
ment represented is much more definite than in the case of touch. 

f It is uncertain as yet what is the exact part taken by each factor in 
the finer measurements carried out by the eye. 



154 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The simplest element in the visual appreciation of magnitude and form 
is that of linear magnitude, which is particularly fine. Next to this is the 
discrimination of the direction of lines, which shares in the delicacy of that 
of linear magnitude. The appreciation of contour in the case of a recti- 
linear figure, as that of an oblong or triangle, proceeds by noting length of 
line, direction of line, as well as the amount of change of direction at the 
corners (magnitude of the angles). 

The other principal element involved in the appreciation of form is 
relative magnitude or proportion among dimensions. In ordinary vision 
we do not note with any close attention the absolute magnitude of an ob- 
ject. But we note very carefully the relative magnitudes, e. g., that of the 
two sides of a rectangular figure, or of the two arms of a cross. This is 
illustrated in many familiar errors of visual measurement. In the accom- 
panying drawing, Fig. 6, the vertical line a'b' looks, on a first glance, 
longer than the line ab, because of the striking difference of length of the 
two horizontal lines to which we see them respectively related. A similar 
effect is still more apparent in Fig. 7. Here the two sections of the line 
ac, viz., ab and be, look equal, though be is really shorter than ab, the ex- 
planation being that we cannot help seeing the length be as a whole in re- 
lation to its divided parts, and so too large. 



+f 



b 

9 Fig. 7. 

T 

Fig. 6. 

Binocular Perception of Space. Under normal cir- 
cumstances we see with two eyes. These must be regarded 
as a single organ. Numerous facts show that the percep- 
tion of space has been developed by the habitual exercise 
of them in co-operation. 

The co-operation of the eyes in vision differs from that 
of the two hands in touching. These last double the area 
perceived at any one moment. When, however, we look at 
an object with the two eyes a large part of the field of view 
is common to both. They are both fixed on the same cen- 
tral point (point of fixation, German Blickpunkt), and all 



PERCEPTION. 



155 



the central portion of the field is seen by each. The sweep 
of the field is only increased to some extent at the two 
sides, to the right by means of the right eye, and to the left 
by means of the left. 

If we keep to one and the same plane we find that both 
the portions of the field common to both eyes as well as 
those peculiar to each are, in general, not seen as double 
but as single. That is to say, we see one single field or 
one continuous scene. If, however, the object is consider- 
ably nearer or further off than the plane of the particular 
object that we are fixating, we have what are called double 
images. Thus, on steadily looking at a distant object, a 
pencil brought just in front of the nose appears double. In 
general the impressions of the two retinas coalesce in single 
impressions when the retinal images fall on what are known 
as " corresponding points," * viz., the two centres (answer- 
ing to the point in the visual field which is fixated) and all 
pairs of points situated similarly (z. <?., on the same side and 
at the same distance) with respect to these ; and when they 
fall on non-corresponding points they are seen double. At 
the same time, as will be seen presently, there are certain 
exceptions to this law. 

Co-ordination of Tactual and Visual Perception. 
Thus far we have traced the development of the eye's per- 
ception of space as an isolated process. That is to say, we 
have supposed that by means of the experience supplied by 
the retinal sensations, together with those of the ocular 
muscles, a child would learn to map out spatial arrange- 
ments in two dimensions without any assistance from an- 
other sense. 

This supposition seems on the whole justified. There is 
good reason to think that either sense develops, to some 
extent at least, its own spatial consciousness, apart from 
the other. At the same time, another process is going on 
from the beginning. The child is not only noting the vis- 

* Strictly speaking, these are known as " identical points." The "cor- 
responding points," the impressions of which are found actually to coalesce, 
deviate slightly from these. 



156 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ual changes which result on moving his eyes, he couples 
with these the lessons of his tactual experience. Thus, 
even with respect to the relative situations of a system of 
visual points in two dimensions, movement of the limbs and 
touch are from the outset coming in to modify the visual 
experience. This seems to be clearly illustrated in the dif- 
ferent significance which we have learnt to attach to the 
look of a vertical and a horizontal line, a difference which 
enters into architectural effect. 

It is time, however, to abandon our supposition that 
the eye is engaged merely in arranging a system of points 
in two dimensions. When we look out into space we see 
the situation of points not only in relation to one another 
but in relation to our own position. One point lies away 
to the left of us, while another lies to the right. One part 
of the scene is further off from us than another. That is 
to say, we see things in a space of three dimensions, having 
depth or distance. This apprehension of the third dimen- 
sion necessarily reacts on the perception of the visual field. 
For it is obvious that the real distance one from another 
which we ascribe to any two points depends on the distance 
from ourselves which we attribute to this field. It is in 
this fuller and concrete perception of space by the eye, the 
perception we all know, that the co-operation of tactual 
perception is most apparent. We have now to trace this 
more complex process of tactuo-visual perception. 

The movements of the eyes are incapable of giving us 
the direct apprehension of depth afforded by arm-move- 
ment. As Berkeley pointed out, we cannot send these out 
into space, but only roll them about in their sockets. We 
do, indeed, move them differently when we merely transfer 
them from one point to another on a surface, and when we 
move them from a further to a nearer point. In the latter 
case the two eyes are made to converge. But this differ- 
ence would not of itself make known the fact that one ob- 
ject was nearer than another. The child has to recognise 
the situation of objects with respect to himself by a refer- 
ence to his experiences of actual touch. 



PERCEPTION. 



157 



Perception of (Absolute) Direction. By means of 
ocular movement supplementing retinal discrimination a 
child perceives the relative direction of points lying in the 
field, that is, their situations relatively to one another 
(above, to the right, etc.). But he does not recognise the 
absolute direction of an object, that is to say, its situation 
with reference to his own position. This mode of percep- 
tion has reference to something outside visual experience, 
viz., arm-movement away from the body. This extra-visual 
experience of direction is suggested to the child by means 
of certain visual signs. The chief of these is the position 
of the eyes at the moment, as made known by the muscular 
sensations connected with the condition of the ocular mus- 
cles engaged. In ' fixating ' or looking at a point to the 
right of us the state of contraction of the muscles con- 
cerned and the accompanying sensations are different from 
those which arise when a point to the left is looked at. 
For every change in the direction of vision there is an ac- 
companying change in the concomitant muscular sensa- 
tions. Along with these sensations of the ocular muscles 
must be taken those of the muscles of the neck concerned 
in moving the head to the right and to the left, upwards 
and downwards. 

The co-ordinating or associating of these ocular sensa- 
tions or signs with the arm-movements signified is the work 
of experience. At first the child, on seeing and fixating an 
object, makes no attempt to reach out the hand and touch 
it. Later on, somewhere about the third month, we may 
observe the hand to be stretched out to touch the object 
seen. It is only after some months that the association is 
perfected so that he aims correctly and touches the object 
instead of passing by it. 

Perception of Distance. It is this aspect of visual 
perception which has received most attention from English 
psychologists. According to the common view, first pro- 
pounded by Berkeley, seeing the distance of an object is 
the interpreting of certain visual signs, which are in them- 
selves as destitute of meaning as word-sounds, and like 



153 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



these acquire all their meaning by the teaching of expe- 
rience, that is to say, by association with data of active 
touch (sensations of movement and of contact). 

What is meant by the distance of an object, its remote- 
ness from our own body, is just like its absolute direction, 
ascertained by means of arm-movement, or, in the case of 
greater distances, by this supplemented by leg-movement. 
When we look at an object, say a shop across the street, 
and ' intuit ' its distance, we represent the amount of move- 
ment (as made known by the attendant muscular and other 
sensations) needed to bring us up to, or in contact with, 
the object. 

Sight, though it does not give us the experience under- 
lying the idea of distance, supplies us with certain variable 
signs of this. In the case of monocular vision these signs 
are the muscular sensations attending the varying degrees 
of accommodation of the eye, that is to say, the greater or 
less degree of convexity of the eye-ball (or lens) for differ- 
ent distances. In looking at an object a few inches from 
the eye the muscles concerned in this process are contracted 
much more than in looking at an object two or three feet 
away, so that there is a greater sensation of muscular 
strain ; and this becomes our sign of the distance. 

This monocular appreciation of distance is, however, 
greatly inferior to the binocular. By the use of the two 
eyes we have an additional system of distance-signs. Since 
in moving these (symmetrically) the two axes are always 
directed to the same point of the field, it follows that a 
movement to a nearer or to a further point involves a 
change in the relative position of the eyes. In the former 
case the two axes turn towards one another or become 
more convergent ; in the latter they become less convergent. 
These changes in the degree of convergence are accompanied 
by different muscular sensations ; and it is these sensations 
which serve as principal signs of the corresponding dis- 
tances.* 

* It is here supposed that we move the eyes from a nearer to a further 
point, or vice versa. We may, however, get an idea of relative distances 



PERCEPTION. 



159 



The sensations of convergence, though giving us a much 
wider range of distance-discrimination than those of accom- 
modation, cease to avail when objects are very remote. In 
these cases the perception of distance is determined by 
other elements, and takes on more of the character of a 
conscious judgment. These signs include such as the fol- 
lowing : Recession of an object from the eye diminishes its 
" apparent magnitude " ; it is further attended with the 
effects of "aerial perspective," such as diminution of the 
brightness of the object, and also of the differences between 
the bright and dark parts (which last, together with reduc- 
tion of size, produces the indistinctness of distance), and 
lastly, those modifications of colour due to the action of 
intervening medium. 

The most important of the factors in this perception of 
distance is the ' apparent magnitude ' of an object. This is 
determined by the ' extensive magnitude ' of the retinal 
image or picture, or by the magnitude of the ' visual angle ' 
subtended by this. As objects recede their retinal pictures 
decrease in area, whereas when they approach they increase. 
Whenever the object is a familiar one, a tree, a house, or a 
sheep, these variations of apparent magnitude are auxiliary 
signs of the distance of the object. Painters, when they 
want to emphasise distance, make use of this circumstance 
by introducing in the background a familiar form. 

The development of the perception of distance in the 
infant has been observed in close connexion with that of 
direction. We see the child at first unable to adjust the 
movements of its eyes to objects at different distances, and 
for a still longer time unable to co-ordinate its arm-move- 
ments with its visual impressions. Children appear to at- 
tain to the distinction between what they can reach with 
their hand and what they cannot only after some months 

without doing this. It was pointed out above that when our eyes are fixed 
on an object at a particular distance, double images are received from 
objects lying considerably nearer or further off. These double images and 
the way they are disposed on the two retinas at once suggest a difference 
of distance, whether as nearness or as farness. 



!6o OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

have passed. In the case of one otherwise intelligent child 
it was not perfect till about the end of the sixth month. 
And it was observed that another child tried to reach the 
lamp of a railway compartment when over a year old. As 
all observers of children know, it is some years before they 
become ready in distinguishing and recognising the signs 
of more remote distance. 

Perception of Real Magnitude. The real magnitude 
of an object is directly known by means of active touch, 
arm-movement accompanied by contact, or, if the object is 
a large one, as a wall, by the aid of locomotion as well. All 
that the eye gives us directly is an apparent magnitude 
determined by the area of the retinal image. Since this 
varies inversely as the distance, it seems to follow that the 
eye's recognition of the real magnitude takes place in close 
connexion with that of distance. If the object is a familiar 
one we instantly recognise its real magnitude, whether or 
no we have a distinct perception of its distance. In this 
case the apparent magnitude may, as was shown above, be- 
come one factor in our estimation of distance. On the 
other hand, in the case of unfamiliar or unknown objects 
we only recognise (real) magnitude by aid of a rough per- 
ception, at least, of distance. Thus we only estimate the 
height of a cliff in a landscape by first judging of its dis- 
tance from us. Children are wont to make absurd blunders 
about the size of more distant objects. The moon appears 
to everybody a small object, just because a direct appre- 
ciation of its enormous distance fails us. 

While the perception of real magnitude thus implies, ultimately, a ref- 
erence to active touch, it probably contains also, in many cases at least, a 
more immediate reference to a visual standard. In looking at an object! 
as a house, at a considerable distance, we seem first of all to recall the 
visual magnitude which it presents when near. We appear to transfer it 
imaginatively to a nearer point, namely, at that distance from us which is 
most favourable to the seeing of it at once, distinctly (in parts) and com- 
prehensively (as a whole). 

Perception of Relief and Solidity of Form. The 

visual perception of a solid body or one having relief is in 



PERCEPTION. I 6 I 

part a special case of recognising distance. A solid or 
cubical body is one the parts of which lie at unequal dis- 
tances from us, some advancing, others receding. There 
is no original intuitive knowledge of solidity by means of 
the eye. This is abundantly shown by the fact that the 
infant requires some experience before it distinguishes 
solid objects from pictures and shadows. The idea of 
solidity or bulk is gained by means of active touch in the 
way indicated above. 

The recognition of this solidity in the case of near ob- 
jects takes place by discriminating the impressions received 
by way of the two eyes. A small flat object, as a drawing, 
when placed before the eyes at a distance say of two yards, 
and looked at by both eyes, projects similar pictures on the 
two retinas; that is to say, pictures made up of the same 
details, and with these details similarly arranged, since they 
fall on corresponding points. Not so, however, when the 
two eyes are fixed on a solid body at the same place. When, 
for example, the two eyes converge on the nearest point of 
the trunk of a tree lying at a distance of two yards, it is 
easy to see that the two retinas receive two dissimilar pict- 
ures. Thus, in the picture of the right retina, there will be 
imaged some points on the extreme right of the object 
which are absent in the picture of the left retina. Further, 
the details of the object, the lines of the bark, which are 
common to the two pictures, will not be similarly arranged, 
but will fall on non-corresponding points. Thus in the case 
of the right-eye picture the details of the right side of the 
trunk will image themselves on points lying further one 
from the other than in the case of the left-eye picture. 
Yet here we do not note the partial dissimilarity of the 
two impressions, nor do we see double images of the 
details not imaged on corresponding points. Under 
these circumstances, which innumerable experiences of 
active touch have told us answer to the presence of a 
solid body, we get a new optical effect, viz., the combina- 
tion of the two dissimilar impressions in a perception of solidity 
or relief. 



!6 2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Our knowledge of these signs of relief and solidity has been greatly fur- 
thered by Sir Ch. Wheatstone's discovery of the Stereoscope. This instru- 
ment presents to the eyes two distinct projections of an object, as a build- 
ing, taken from two points of view lying at a short distance one from 
another, corresponding to the distance of one eye from the other, so that 
the two pictures differ one from another much as the two retinal pictures 
obtained from a solid object differ. Hence the powerful impression ot 
solidity and relief produced by this instrument. 

When an object is too far off for the dissimilar retinal 
effects to come into operation, relief or solidity has to be 
inferred from other signs. These include the distribution 
of light and shade on the surface, or what is known by art- 
ists as 'modelling'. Thus the prominence of a distant 
mountain is perceived by the gradations of light and shade. 
Reference may also be made to the effects of ' linear per- 
spective,' or the apparent alteration in the direction of the 
lines of an object due to distance. Pictorial 
art makes use of these auxiliary signs of 
distance. 

The perception of solid form illustrates 
in a striking manner the co-operation of a 
representative or ideational factor in the 
perceptual process. Thus in looking at the 
accompanying drawing of a cylindrical ves- 
sel (Fig. 8) I am able, by simply imagining 
that I am seeing it from above or from be- 
low, to make it look different, the upper half of each curve 
appearing further than the lower in the former case, nearer 
in the latter.* 

Perception of Objective Movement. As we have 
seen, ocular movement is the original experience which sug- 
gests to the eye the existence of definite localities or points 
in space. From this consciousness or perception of ' sub- 
jective' movement, that is to say, a movement of our own 
organism (eye or head), must be distinguished the percep- 
tion of ' objective ' movement, or a movement of objects. 

* For other examples of the effect of imagination on the perception of 
relief, see my volume, Illusions, p. 77 ff. 



PERCEPTION. 163 

The visual perception of movement, like the tactual 
one, arises in one of two ways. First of all we may follow 
a moving object with the eye and perceive its movement 
in direct vision. In this case the objective movement is 
recognised by means of the muscular and other sensations 
accompanying it, coupled with a persistent and unaltered 
sensation received by way of the area of perfect vision. In 
the second place, we may perceive the movement of an ob- 
ject across the field by the help of indirect vision, the eye 
being at rest. In this case we recognise the fact of the 
object's movement through the circumstance that a per- 
sistent sensation is continually altered by change of local 
character (corresponding to the series of retinal points 
traversed by the image). This experience, moreover, dif- 
fers from that of moving the eye over an object at rest in 
the absence of the connected muscular sensations which 
would tell us that we ourselves were moving. 

Illusory movements occur when images of objects flit 
across the retina as the result of our own movement andwe 
overlook the fact of our moving. Thus if I close the right eye 
and press with a finger on the outer surface of the left eye 
towards the nose, objects appear to move to the right. 
Similarly when travelling in a train and looking at station- 
ary objects, as telegraph posts, they appear to fly past us 
because we momentarily forget our own swift motion. 

In its developed form the perception of movement im- 
plies the intuition of space. It includes the recognition of 
a transition from one point of space to another, or of a con- 
tinual change of position. It thus stands in a particularly 
close relation to the perception of direction, and like this 
has been developed in connexion with active touch. 

Growth of Visual Perception. It follows from this 
short account of the nature of visual perception that, 
though an instantaneous automatic operation in mature 
life, it is the result of a slow process of acquisition involv- 
ing innumerable experiences in early life. It is probable 
that in connexion with the inherited nervous organism 
every child has an innate disposition to co-ordinate retinal 



j64 outlines of psychology. 

sensations with those of ocular movements, and visual sen- 
sations as a whole with experiences of active touch. But 
individual experience is necessary for the development of 
these instinctive tendencies. 

A very little reflexion will show that the experiences of 
early life must tend to bring about the closest possible as- 
sociations between sight and touch, and to favour that 
automatic interpretation of " visual language " which we 
find in later life. The child passes a great part of his wak- 
ing life in handling objects, in walking towards and away 
from them, and concurrently looking at them and noting 
the changes of visual impression which accompany these 
movements. Thus in countless instances he notices the in- 
crease of the 'apparent magnitude' of a body when he 
moves towards it ; the dissimilarity of the two visual im- 
pressions received from a solid body while he is handling it, 
and so forth. In this way an inseparable coalescence of 
signs and significates takes place at an epoch in life too far 
back for any of us to recall it. 

When this stage of automatic visual perception is reached 
reference to touch in all cases is no longer necessary. 
Sight, having completely taken up and absorbed the touch- 
elements, is now independent. In the large majority of 
cases we recognise distance, real magnitude, and solidity, 
without any appeal to limb-movement and touch. Seeing 
has now become the habitual mode of perception. It is 
only in doubtful cases that we still go back to touch in 
order to test our visual perceptions. 

While, however, visual perception has thus in a manner 
grown out of tactual perception, it far surpasses this last in 
respect of discriminative fineness as well as in comprehensive 
range. Seeing is more than a translation of touch-knowl- 
edge into a new language, and more than a shorthand ab- 
breviation of it. It adds much to this knowledge by reason 
of its more perfect separation and combination of its sense- 
elements. 

Theories of Visual Space-Consciousness. The above theory of 
visual perception follows the lines of the common English view of the sub- 



PERCEPTION. 



I6 5 



ject since the classical work of Berkeley. It allows, indeed, the possibility 
of a purely visual development of space-intuition ; but at the same time 
contends that this would not be our common space-perception, but that this 
last is a product of tactual experience grafted on visual. 

At the same time the Berkeleyan theory of vision is only a hypothesis. 
It is still maintained by some that the eye is capable, without any assistance 
from touch, of supplying a complete perception in space in three dimensions. 
According to these, space or volume is given originally along with, or as a 
property of, the retinal sensation, ocular movement serving merely to sub- 
divide and measure this bigness. The question whether the eye is com- 
petent to the independent formation of a complete space-consciousness has 
been much discussed by German physiologists in connexion with the obser- 
vation and explanation of optical phenomena. The facts do not as yet seem 
easily reconcilable with either of the extreme views. The same maybe said 
of the facts much relied on by English Berkeleyans, viz., the observations 
of the first visual impressions of children who were born blind and after- 
wards acquired sight. These, together with the observation of the devel- 
opment of visual perception in normal children, suggest that the visual 
apprehension of space, though dependent on touch for its clear develop- 
ment, is acquired more rapidly than the older Berkeleyan theory would 
suggest, and that it is aided by certain congenital arrangements. 

Visual Intuition of Thing - . In looking at an object, 
as in touching it, we apprehend simultaneously (or approxi- 
mately so) a whole group of qualities. These include its 
degree of brightness as a whole, the distribution of light 
and shade of its parts, its colour (and local disposition of 
colours), the form and magnitude of its surface and its 
solid shape. These seemingly immediate intuitions involve, 
as we have found, tactual as well as visual elements. A 
further tangible quality always more or less distinctly 
present in this first apprehension of thing is materiality as 
made known to active touch. To see an object is to recog- 
nise the presence of that which would resist. This complex 
of visual and tactual elements may be called the primary 
stage in our visual intuition of an object. In looking at 
something new, as a gem in a cabinet, we instantly intuit or 
take in this group of purely visible, visible and tangible, 
and purely tangible, qualities, and they constitute a consid- 
erable amount of knowledge concerning the nature of the 
object as a whole. 



l66 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The recognition of any object, as a particular horse, or of 
one of a class of things, as oranges, presupposes a repetition 
of this assemblage of qualities. In this case the group is 
not only discriminated but assimilated or classed. Thus on 
seeing an orange, a child at once ' classes ' the aggregate of 
qualities (yellow colour and roundness of form) with like 
groups previously seen. 

Moreover, in thus classing a particular group of qualities 
directly presented to the eye,* a child will take up and recog- 
nise the presence of a number of other special groups of 
associated qualities. Thus in recognising an object, as an 
orange, he invests it more or less distinctly with a particular 
degree of hardness, weight, etc. Nay, more, he mentally en- 
dows it with a particular temperature, taste, and even smell. 
In this way visual perception (embodying important tactual 
elements) suffices for the full apprehension of a definite con- 
crete object clothed with its complete outfit of qualities. 

Identifying Objects. The visual recognition of a 
thing as identical with something previously perceived takes 
place by help of the idea of persistence already dealt with. 
Since things vary greatly at different times in their appear- 
ance to the eye, it follows that visual recognition involves 
the germ of a higher intellectual process, namely, the com- 
parison of successive impressions and the detection of simi- 
larity amid diversity or change. Thus a child learns to 
recognise his hat, or his dog, at different distances and 
under different lights (in bright sunlight, evening dusk, etc.), 
by discounting a certain amount of dissimilarity. Of these 
changes of aspect one of the most important is that due to 
the position of the object in relation to the spectator. The 
difference of impression in looking at a hat 'end on ' or 
foreshortened and from the side, or in having a front and side 
view of a face, is considerable. Children require a certain 
amount of experience and practice before they recognise 
an object amid such varying aspects. 

It is to be observed that the identification of objects is 

* That is to say relatively so, for, as we saw, even the visual perception 
of roundness probably embodies a representative element. 



PERCEPTION. 167 

greatly aided by the social environment and by language. 
A child learns to perceive and recognise objects in associa- 
tion with others. From the first the mother or nurse is 
pointing out objects to him ; describing their characteristics, 
and naming them. By these interchanges of impressions 
and this social guidance he learns that others see things as 
he sees them, that external things are common objects of 
perception. And by hearing them again and again called 
by the same name he learns more quickly to regard them 
as the same. 

Knowledge of Bodily Organism. It was pointed 
out above that the tactual perception of external objects 
goes on in close connexion with that of the bodily organism. 
It is only as the child learns to localise its dermal sensations 
in this and that part of the trunk, or of the limb, that a 
complete tactual apprehension of extended surface becomes 
possible. We have now to look at this process of localisa- 
tion as an element, and a principal element, in the knowl- 
edge of the body. 

There is no reason to suppose that the child's first bodily 
sensations are definitely localised. Whatever the vague 
' local ' differences that mark off the sensations arising in 
different regions of the body and connected with the dis- 
tinctness of the nerve-fibres, these would convey no knowl- 
edge of locality at first. A baby pricked in a particular 
area of the trunk is unable to reach the spot with its hand. 
Localisation comes gradually by help of the exploring 
movements already discussed. The fact that the child's 
own body is always present to its moving tactile organ 
would in itself favour the acquisition of knowledge of its 
surface. But there is a more important reason. When the 
child touches and holds his foot he produces, or to speak 
more correctly, alters sensation in that part. Thus, by taking 
a cold foot in his hand he warms it. By bringing his hand 
too suddenly to his head he hurts it. Such experiences 
would lead, according to the above principle of associative 
integration, to the reference of all sensations of a particu- 
lar original local colouring to a definite region of the bodily 



l68 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

surface. In other words, bodily sensations would be pro- 
jected to the points corresponding to the peripheral extremi- 
ties of the corresponding nerve-fibre, and the child would 
say he has a sensation in the toe, the head, etc. 

This purely tactual localisation would be supplemented 
by a visual localisation. A child can see a good portion of 
the surface of its body, and the direct visual perception is 
later on eked out by the help of mirrors. In this way the 
body comes as an object within the changing field of vision, 
and a visual map of its surface is developed in addition to, 
and in close connexion with, the tactual map. Thus, when 
the hand is moved to the toe the movement is followed by 
the eye, and in this way the toe is localised in correspond- 
ing regions of the tactual and the visual space-scheme. 
Sight would further assist in the development of this local- 
isation of bodily sensation by showing the locality of a 
foreign body that was acting agreeably or disagreeably on 
the skin. 

The imperfect localisation of internal bodily sensations, 
as those of the viscera, depends on the same principle. 
These parts are of course excluded from sight, and are not 
directly accessible to touch. But by pressures on the sur- 
face of the body we are able indirectly to act upon and 
modify the sensations. In this way children come in time 
to refer pains to more or less definitely apprehended regions 
of the organism.* This knowledge is later on supple- 
mented, in the case of educated persons, by a scientific 
study of the bodily organs and their local arrangements. 

To a child his own body, though tactually and visually 
explored like other objects, is marked off from these by the 
fact that it is connected in a peculiar way with his con- 
scious life, and more particularly his feelings of pleasure 
and pain. The experience of touching the foot with the 
hand differs from that of touching a foreign body by the 

* A medical friend tells me it is not uncommon to find children of three 
and four who, when the seat of their pain is sought by the question ' Does 
it hurt you here ? ' the doctor's hand being laid on the abdomen, the head, 
etc., are quite unable to answer the question. 



PERCEPTION. 



169 



all-important adjunct to the sensation in the touching hand, 
of a sensation in the touched foot. Pressures of this kind on 
the organism soon come to be recognised as the causes of 
pleasurable and painful sensations. The earliest pleasures 
and pains are largely made up of such bodily feelings. 
And these, whether due to external agencies (as a blow or 
caress), or to internal changes (e. g., in the circulation or 
temperature), are always referred more or less definitely to 
certain parts of the organism. Hence we all regard the 
body as a portion of ourself, and in early life probably it 
makes up the chief part of the meaning of the word 'self.' 
A more abstract idea of self, as mind or subject in its an- 
tithesis to material objects, is, as we shall see, a much later 
attainment. It follows that in the earlier perception there 
is no distinct apprehension of the 'not me' in its opposi- 
tion to the ' me.' * 

(c) Auditory Perception. 

Space-Perception : (a) Genesis of Aural Space- 
Consciousness. As has been observed above, the ear 
falls far below the hand and the eye as an organ of space- 
perception. Its want of a mosaic-like sensitive surface and 
of a muscular apparatus, such as exist in the case of the 
two other organs, prevents the development of a space- 
consciousness comparable to theirs in directness, complete- 
ness, and fineness of discrimination. Nevertheless, this 
sense is not wholly without an apparatus capable of devel- 
oping space-distinctions. 

We distinguish sounds as to their direction, relatively to 
one another and to ourselves, and also as to their distance 
from us. With respect to direction, common experience 
tells us that we distinguish a sound to the left from one to 

* This truth is rightly apprehended by the Poet Laureate in the lines : — 
" The baby new to earth and sky, 
What time his tender palm is prest 
Against the circle of the breast, 
Has never thought that ' this is I.' " 

— In Memoriam {XLIV.). 



170 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



the right better than a sound immediately in front of us 
from one behind us. In many cases it is mainly, if not ex- 
clusively, the difference in the intensity of the impressions 
received by the two ears which determines the sense or 
judgment of direction. This seems to be shown by the 
fact that when one ear is stopped not only does a sound in 
front appear to shift towards the direction of the other ear, 
but that the discrimination of direction for sounds opposite 
the open ear falls off materially. This suggests that hear- 
ing is binaural just as seeing is binocular. 

At the same time, recent experiment has led to the sup- 
position that each ear can discriminate direction independ- 
ently. The exact limits of this discrimination are as yet 
not assignable. Nor is it possible to say by what apparatus 
such discrimination of direction is carried out. It has been 
suggested that the nerve-filaments terminating in the semi- 
circular canals, which lie in planes at right angles one to 
another, are the special mechanism engaged. It is pretty 
certain that the shell or outer ear also co-operates. And, 
lastly, it is to be added that although the human ear is im- 
mobile, rotatory movements of the head, especially those 
which bring the face opposite the direction of the sound, 
are probably a factor in the development of the aural 
space-consciousness. 

There is reason, moreover, to suppose that the ear fur- 
nishes modifications of sensation by which differences of 
distance in the sounding body are apprehended. In the 
varying intensity of sound with varying distance, we have, 
it is evident, an analogue of the differences of apparent 
magnitude and brightness in visible objects under like cir- 
cumstances. It is inferrible also that, owing to the drop- 
ping out of the weaker partial tones as distance increases, 
sounds alter in timbre as they recede from the ear. 

(/>) Co-ordination of Aural and Extra-aural Fac- 
tors. While the sense of hearing thus probably develops 
a certain space-perception of its own, this is at best vague 
and fragmentary. The ear's sense of direction in relation 
to the hearer involves, like that of the eye, a reference to 



PERCEPTION. 



171 



arm-movement and touch. We are all aware, indeed, in 
carrying out such imperfect localisations of sound as we 
are able, that we project them into a space which we have 
come to know by touch and sight. 

This is further shown in the fact that the ear by itself 
would develop no direct perception of distance. Whatever 
the data supplied by aural sensations for estimating dis- 
tance, it seems certain that in our ordinary judgments there 
is always a process of inference from past experience. 
Thus, we learn that sounds diminish in intensity as their 
source recedes, and hence we come to associate low inten- 
sity with distance. This is seen in the fact that by closing 
the ears with the fingers we seem to send sounds further 
away. In the case of familiar sounds, as the ticking of a 
clock, we can, after a certain amount of experience, very 
roughly estimate its distance by this means. 

Auditory Perception of Time. While hearing thus 
gives us comparatively little knowledge of space, it yields 
a very exact perception of time-relations. By this is meant 
the approximately direct apprehension of the order of suc- 
cession, and of the rapidity of succession, and duration of 
sounds. Thus we perceive the sequence of, and estimate 
the interval between, two clicks of a clock, and the dura- 
tion of a musical tone. 

Since the impressions whose time-relations are thus ap- 
prehended actually succeed one another in time, our per- 
ception of succession would seem to involve a certain per- 
sistence and so an overlapping of the sequent impressions, 
so that they may co-exist and be related to one another in 
one unifying act of perception. Our so-called perception of 
time, as we shall see by-and-by, always involves at least a 
rudimentary process of retrospection and representation of 
impressions which are already past. 

Recent experiments have shown that the grasp of a suc- 
cessive series of sounds in a time-perception has its limits. 
Thus, in order to be connected, two successive sounds must 
be separated by an interval which must not be less than 
j±q of a second or greater that 4 seconds. It is further 



172 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



found that, provided the interval is a favourable one (about 
J of a second), a series of eight or more sounds can be 
grouped as one series. 

A further point, elucidated by experimental inquiry, is 
how far we can measure the precise interval between two 
sounds, and how this power varies as the interval is length- 
ened or shortened. It seems to be ascertained that the 
measurement is most exact when the interval is from a 
half to a whole second. 

The nice appreciation of time-relations in the case of 
the ear is of great practical consequence. Thus it is evi- 
dent that the rapid and easy apprehension of spoken lan- 
guage depends on an accurate perception of the order of 
succession of the sounds, and a ready combination of the 
members of a time-series in a single perception. 

It is, however, in the perception of the rhythmic succes- 
sions of verse and music that the ear's appreciation of 
time-relations shows itself at its best. The essential ele- 
ment in this experience is regular recurrence after a defi- 
nite interval, ox periodicity. Here an accurate measurement 
of time-interval becomes essential. What we mean by the 
appreciation of time in music includes the comparison of 
successive simple time-lengths, whether filled with sound, 
or empty intervals or pauses, as well as multiples of these. 
Thus in 'common time' the ear recognises the equality of 
duration or time-interval of the units (the crotchets), and 
of the quadruple groups of these making up the bars. The 
full appreciation of rhythm in music, and measure in verse, 
implies, in addition to measurement of time-length or inter- 
val, a recognition of numerical relations. The ear notes 
the periodic recurrence of a particular number of sounds in 
the case of each musical bar, as of the three in triple time, 
and this recognition underlies the appreciation of the par- 
ticular form of the movement. 

Musical Perception. Besides the perception of time- 
relations under the form of rhythm, music involves the dis- 
cernment of other and specifically musical relations. These 
include the distances of tones one from another in the 



PERCEPTION. 173 

scale, or pitch-interval. To the musical ear each note in 
the scale has its definite position, and presents itself as 
standing at a certain distance from other notes, more par- 
ticularly the ground- or key-note. In other words, tones 
are projected on a represented background answering to 
the total scale of sounds, or, more exactly, to the series of 
tones constituting the particular key. 

In addition to these relations of pitch, the musical ear 
perceives relations of tonal affinity, such as that between a 
note and the octave above it. These tonal relationships 
enter into what we call melody or melodious succession of 
tones. Melodic relationship probably depends, like the 
harmonious combination of simultaneous tones, on the 
presence of common elements, viz., upper partial tones. 

Development of Perceptual Process. Our analysis 
of perception has suggested the way in which our percepts 
are gradually built up and perfected. A word or two on 
the general course of this perceptual development may 
suffice. 

In the first weeks of life there is little if any recognition 
by the eye of outer things. Impressions are made on the 
child's mind, but at best the reference to an external world 
is of the vaguest. About the fifth month, however, the 
child may be observed watching his moving hands. Soon 
after, the first attempts to grasp objects are noticed, these 
attaining accuracy by degrees.* The perception of the 
distance of more remote objects remains very imperfect be- 
fore locomotion is attained. Thus a child more than a year 
old was seen to try to grasp at the lamp in the ceiling of a 
railway compartment. This shows that change of visible 
scene as the child is carried about the room, though it no 

* A child known to the present writer was first seen to stretch out his 
hand to an object when two and a half months old. The hand misses the 
exact point at first, passing beside it, but practice gives precision to the 
movement. The same child at six months knew when an object was within 
reach. If a biscuit or other object was held out of his reach, he made no 
movement, but as soon as it was brought within his reach he instantly put 
out his hand to take it. 



174 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



doubt impresses him, is not sufficient for acquiring a clear 
cognition of distance. It is some years before he begins to 
note the signs of distance in the case of objects a mile or 
more away. 

After many conjunctions of impressions the child be- 
gins to find out the nature of objects and the visible as- 
pects which are their most important marks. That is to 
say, he begins to discriminate objects one from another by 
means of sight alone, and to recognise them as they reap- 
pear to the eye. Sight now grows self-sufficient. What 
may be roughly marked off as the touching age gives place 
to the seeing age. Henceforth the growth of perception is 
mainly an improvement of visual capability. 

At first this power of discerning forms with the eye is 
limited to objects of great practical or aesthetic interest, as 
the child's bottle, the rattle. The observer notes one or 
two prominent and striking features of a thing but over- 
looks the others. Thus in looking at real animals, or at 
his toy or picture imitations, he will distinguish a quadru- 
ped from a bird, but not one quadruped from another and 
similar one, as the goat and the sheep. 

The progress of perception grows with that of analytic 
attention, and of visual discrimination and the correlative 
process of assimilation. As a result of this the child finds 
it easier to note selectively the characteristic aspects of 
things and to recognise them by these marks. In this way 
his observations tend gradually to improve in distinctness 
and in accuracy. Not only so, an increased power of syn- 
thetic attention enables him to seize and embrace in a single 
view a larger number of details. In this way fuller and 
more exact percepts are substituted for the early ' sketchy ' 
ones. Thus a particular flower, or animal, is seen more 
completely in all its detailed features of colour and form. 
Also a wider area of presentation becomes attended to, and 
in this way larger and more complex objects, such as a 
room, a whole building, come to be perceived as single 
wholes. 

The observing powers may develop in different direc- 



PERCEPTION. 



175 



tions according to special natural capabilities, or special 
circumstances. Thus it is well known that a particularly- 
good colour-sense, accompanied by a correspondingly lively 
interest in colours, will lead to a more careful observation 
of this aspect of things. A naturalist or an artist has a keen 
eye for details of form which escape the common eye. The 
child Ruskin could be happy for hours watching the rich 
varying play of light, colour and movement in a stream. In 
like manner it is well known that the blind who are thrown 
on tactual perception, as their main source of knowledge 
attain a remarkable fineness and quickness of perception. 
The blind deaf mute, Laura Bridgman, could estimate the 
age of a stranger by feeling the wrinkles about the eyes.* 
Sense-presentations may thus be said to acquire a different 
content for us according to the habitual direction of our 
observing powers. 

The Regulation of Perception : The Art of Ob- 
servation. All perception involves a measure of that re- 
active process which we call attention. But we are often 
able to discriminate and recognise an object or an action 
by a momentary glance which suffices to take in a few 
prominent marks. Such incomplete fugitive perception is 
ample for rough every-day purposes. On the other hand, 
we sometimes need to throw a special degree of energy into 
the process of perception so as to note completely and ac- 
curately what is present. This is particularly the case with 
new and unfamiliar objects. Such a careful direction of 
the mind to objects is known as Observation. This ob- 
servation may be carried out by way of any one of the 
senses, as when a lady tactually examines the texture of a 
fabric. The term commonly refers, however, to a careful 
visual scrutiny of objects. 

Observation in its highest form is a methodical process. 
It implies a deliberate selection of an object for special 
consideration, a preparatory adjustment of the attention, 
and an orderly going to work with a view to see what ex- 
actly takes place in the world about us. This methodical 

* For an account of Laura Bridgman, ?ee Mind, vol. iv. p. 149 fr. 



If 6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

procedure is specially conspicuous in scientific observation, 
as that of the astronomer, or the chemist. Such observa- 
tion commonly involves, further, a prolonged and patient 
attention to changes in an object, i. e., to a process. Ob- 
servation may thus be said to be regulated perception. 

Good observation consists in careful and minute atten- 
tion to what is before us. Thus, in order to observe nicely 
a particular flower or mineral, we must note all the indi- 
vidual characteristics, the less conspicuous as well as the 
more prominent. Similarly, if we wish to observe a process 
such as evaporation, or the movements of expression in a 
person's face, we must carefully seize all the stages of the 
operation. By such a close effort of attention we give dis- 
tinctness to our observations and accurately mark off what 
we are observing from other and similar objects with which 
they are liable to be confused.* 

It may be added that good observation includes a cer- 
tain self-restraint, a resolute limitation of attention to what 
is actually presented, and an exclusion of all irrelevant 
imaginative activity. Thus it includes in the carefully- 
trained mind the inhibition of the impulse to go beyond 
the observed facts in what is called inference, a common 
fault of bad observers, as the witness-box in our law-courts 
illustrates. Also it involves the restraining of the impulse to 
look out for a particular thing when this grows into pre- 
possession. The undisciplined mind is apt to see what it 
expects, wishes, or it may be fears to see. Even scien- 
tific observation has been vitiated by a strong preposses- 
sion or expectation of a particular appearance. In like 
manner the undisciplined mind tends, like the Professor in 
the Water Babies, to overlook that which it is disinclined to 
believe in. Methodical observation must, no doubt, as the 
history of physical science tells us, be stimulated and 
guided by anticipation or imaginative conjecture. We 

* We might call a percept distinct when we see an object apart from 
other and surrounding objects, and clear when we mentally grasp all its 
parts or details. Perfect or accurate perception would of course include 
both distinctness and clearness. 



PERCEPTION. 



177 



should, in many cases, not see things at all if we were not 
on the look-out for them. At the same time, good obser- 
vation never allows itself to be overshadowed or interfered 
with by such imaginative activity. 

It is less easy to draw up definite rules for the regula- 
tion of the perceptual process in observation than for that 
of the reasoning process. Good observation comes from a 
trained habit, and is the resultant of a combination of 
forces, such as a strong interest in objects, a disciplined 
command of the attention by the will, and zealous regard 
for fact or reality. If we want to observe well we must 
try to develop a strong interest in external things, and carry 
out a careful practice of methodical observation for a defi- 
nite purpose, e.g., pictorial representation, verbal descrip- 
tion, or scientific discovery. We must, further, be on our 
guard against the snares of ^^/-observation.* In like man- 
ner, the educator who aims at developing a child's observa- 
tion and perfecting him in the use of the senses, attains this 
object not so much by laying down any definite rules as by 
rousing interest in objects, by systematically exercising the 
learner in observation, and so producing a habit of accuracy. 

Training in Sense-Observation. Intellectual education begins with 
the training of the Senses, as it is called ; or, to speak more accurately, 
with exercising the child in the processes of sense-observation. This will 
include the awakening of his interest in external things, in the colours, 
forms, etc., of the objects about him. In close connexion with this arous- 
ing of interest the educator will aim at exercising the young learner in the 
gradual discrimination of colours, tones, and so forth, the classifying of 
them according to their likenesses, and the associating of them in their 
proper connexions as they present themselves in concrete objects. In 
carrying out this last the educator must remember that some of the most 
important constituents in our percepts are supplied by our muscular ac- 
tivity ; and the child should be encouraged to use his limbs, and more 
especially his hands, so as to reach a clear apprehension of the fundamental 
properties of objects. The perception of form should be improved by 
methodical exercises, such as the modelling and other constructive em- 
ployments of the Kindergarten, and by drawing. 

* On the errors incident to observation, and its logical control, see J. S. 
Mill, Logic, bk. iv. chap. i. 
12 



178 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



These exercises should culminate in the object-lesson, by which is here 
meant a careful methodical examination of an object by means of the sev- 
eral senses so as to obtain the most complete and precise knowledge of its 
several properties. Here what has been said above respecting the con- 
ditions of accurate observation, and the influences which, especially in the 
case of the young, favour careless and inaccurate observation, should be 
steadily kept in view, so that the learner may be put on his guard against 
the errors incident to perception. The special aim of the educator should 
be to awaken a warm, wide-reaching interest in objects, to foster a jealous 
regard for accuracy, and to develop a habit of close, painstaking observa- 
tion. In this way he will be laying the foundations of that higher faculty, 
the trained observation of the expert, whether this be employed in the 
scientific examination of physical phenomena, or in the artistic study of 
nature. 

Psychology and Philosophy of Perception, In the foregoing ac- 
count of the development of perception, we have been concerned only with 
its subjective side, that is to say, the nature of the psychical process by 
which percepts are formed. We have been answering the question : By 
what steps, by aid of what discoverable psychical facts, does a child reach 
what we call a knowledge of things in space and time? 

After this problem has been answered there remains another question, 
or group of questions, related to, yet to be carefully distinguished from it, 
dealing with the objective side of perception, that is to say, with its validity 
as cognition when we have it. Looking at perception on this side we ask : 
What is the value of perception as an (apparently) immediate knowledge of 
something external to, and independent of, the knowing mind ? What is 
meant by the externality of a thing ? Is space, for example, something 
really existent apart from our percipient minds, or, as Kant held, something 
subjective, a form of apprehension supplied by the mind itself? Again, is 
material reality, or that which marks off an actual thing from an illusion, 
something absolutely apart from our perception, or is it merely one phase 
of our sense-experience itself? Thus, is a stone nothing more than a sum 
of sensations of touch, etc., actually experienced at the time, or represented 
as uniformly occurring under certain circumstances, or does our knowledge 
of it as a material object in space imply more than the sum of all the sensa- 
tions by the aid of which we come to know it ? If the latter (as perhaps 
most persons would say), how is such knowledge guaranteed or made cer- 
tain ? These problems belong to the Philosophy, as distinguished from the 
Psychology, of Perception. They are variously known as the problem of 
Presentative Knowledge of External Perception, or of the External World. 
The Realist asserts that space and material object exist per se whether 
brought into relation to percipient mind or not. The Idealist, on the con- 
trary, maintains that what we mean by external reality, by material thing, 
is resolvable into certain aspects and relations of our conscious experience 
itself. The solution of this problem, though it may derive help from the 



PERCEPTION. 



179 



psychology c T the subject, can only be carried out by a properly philosophical 
examination of the essential nature and conditions of Knowledge.* 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

For a fuller account of the way in which we learn to localise impres- 
sions and perceive objects the reader is referred to Prof. Bain's treatise, 
Senses and Intellect, under ' Sense of Touch,' § 13. etc. ; under ' Sense of 
Sight,' § 12, etc. ; and later, under ' Intellect,' § 33, etc. ; also to the excel- 
lent analysis of perception in Mr. H. Spencer's Principles of Psychology, 
vol. ii. pt. vi. chaps, ix. to xviii. With these may be compared M. Taine's 
interesting chapter on ' External Perception and the Education of the 
Senses,' On Intelligence, pt. ii. bk. ii. chap. ii. Among more recent works 
in English are to be noticed Ward's article, " Psychology " {Encyclop. 
Pritann.), p. 51 ff. ; and W. James's Psychology, chaps, xx. and xxi. On 
the educational aspect of the subject of sense-perception the reader will do 
well to consult Mr. Spencer's Essay on Education, chap, ii., and Miss You- 
mann's little work on the Culture of the Observing Powers of Children. 
The difficult subject of the Object-Lesson is dealt with in a suggestive way 
by Dr. Bain, Ediccation as a Science, chap. viii. p. 247, etc. The German 
reader may with advantage read Waitz, A llgetneine Padagogik, 2nd pt., 1st 
section, " Die Bildung der Anschauung ." 

* The student who cares to go into the philosophic side of perception 
cannot do better than consult Prof. Fraser, Selections from Berkeley. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 

Transition from Presentation to Representation : 
The Temporary Image. The percept is the immediate 
outcome of the organisation of certain portions of our 
sense-experience. It is, moreover, as we have seen, though 
taking up into itself a representative element, coloured 
throughout by its more vivid sensuous ingredient. Hence 
we mark it off from the higher region of ideation as a pres- 
entation or direct sense-presentment. 

Presentations or percepts, though the foundation of all 
our thought respecting things, are in themselves fugitive 
psychical phenomena. A percept, depending as it does (in 
normal circumstances) on a peripheral stimulus, ceases 
when that stimulus is withdrawn. In order, then, to that 
permanent psychical product which we call cognition, some- 
thing more than perception is necessary. This additional 
factor is supplied by that consequent or after-effect of the 
percept which we popularly call an idea, but which is more 
accurately described as a mental image, or representative 
image. 

It was pointed out above that sensations have a tem- 
porary persistence. Since in the mature consciousness all 
sensations instantly develop into percepts, we may express 
this fact of temporary retention as follows : All percepts, 
whether visual, auditory, or other, tend to persist beyond the mo- 
ment of the cessation of the sensory stimulus. Thus the per- 
ception of a bright object, as the setting sun, is often fol- 
lowed for some seconds by that which is known as an 
'after-image,' but which may be just as appropriately de- 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. jgj 

scribed as an ' after-percept,' of the object. This tem- 
porary persistence is, as we saw, involved in the perception 
of a series of sounds. 

In addition to these after-images, which are only occa- 
sional and fugitive, a vivid and distinct impression, involv- 
ing a special effort of attention, is apt to beget a mental 
image properly so called, which may persist for some time 
after the percept. Thus after intent visual inspection, as 
in microscopic investigation, the image of the object hovers 
about, so to speak, for some time, recurring again and 
again, as soon as other objects of attention are removed. 
This temporary image is important as forming the first 
stage of the true memory-image. 

The Revival of Percepts. This temporary ' echo ' of 
impressions or percepts, though it enables us to prolong, in 
a manner, the inspection of our percepts, has only a limited 
value in relation to the permanent acquisition of knowl- 
edge. When we talk of picturing, imagining, or mentally 
representing an object, we imply the appearance of the 
image after an interval. This resurgence of the image after 
the complete subsidence of the percept is popularly de- 
scribed as a revival or reproduction of the original impres- 
sion, that is, percept. This language, however, is figurative 
and apt to mislead. It does not imply that an image is, 
strictly speaking, ' the same ' as the percept (in the sense 
in which a thing is one and the same when seen at different 
times) ; nor does it mean that the image is perfectly similar 
as a mode of consciousness or a psychosis to a percept. 

It is to be noted that this revival under the new form of 
an image holds good of all classes of percepts or " sense- 
impressions." Thus, in psychology, we speak of an image 
of a sound and of a taste, just as we speak of an image of 
a colour. Images derived from visual percepts are, no 
doubt, as we shall see, the larger and more important por- 
tion of our image-store, but we must keep steadily in view 
that other sense-experiences as well give rise to images. 

This revival of percepts after the lapse of time is, as 
pointed out above, the most striking manifestation of the 



1 82 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

effect of peripheral stimulation in permanently modifying 
the nerve-centres by setting up " physiological disposi- 
tions." When Milton went on picturing objects with sin- 
gular vividness and distinctness after the loss of sight, and 
Beethoven continued to marshal tone-imagery with perfect 
ease after he had lost his hearing, they gave signal proof of 
the fact that the brain, though requiring peripheral stimulation 
for its initial activity, grows in time to be independent of such 
stimulation. 

Process of Revival. It has already been pointed out, 
that, speaking psychologically, we only know retention 
through the fact of revival. If, as is supposed by some, a 
percept has some sort of existence during the interval pre- 
ceding revival out of consciousness, we can have no direct 
knowledge of the fact ; all that experience tells is that the 
percept is under certain conditions subsequently re-excited, 
or reproduced, under the new and altered form of an 
image. 

The immediate conditions of the appearance of the 
image are, as pointed out, the recurrence in restricted form 
of that mode of central excitation which conditioned the 
original impression. The process of revival doubtless in- 
cludes a stage, or rather a series of stages, of imperfect, 
that is, sub-conscious ideation. Thus, in imagining a rose, 
I can trace a process of gradual emergence or coming into 
the clear light of consciousness. This succession of a dis- 
tinct on an indistinct stage does not, however, any more 
than the reverse process, the sinking or fading of the origi- 
nal percept, prove that the image existed before the process 
of revival began. 

Differentiae of Images and Percepts. The fact that 
we have no difficulty in general in distinguishing between 
the percept and the image, e. g., the sight of a horse and 
the mental representation of it, suggests that there must be 
certain differences between them. The most obvious point 
of difference is the greater intensity of the sensational or 
presentative element in the percept, which gives to the 
whole structure its peculiar vividness (or strength). Along 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. ^3 

with this superior intensity, and perhaps more important 
than this, is the greater distinctness of percepts, in general, 
as compared with images. 

These differences, though important, are not all : other- 
wise we should confuse weak and indistinct impressions, 
e. g., those of faint sounds, or of indistinctly-seen objects, 
with images. One other distinguishing character of images 
is their instability, changeableness, as contrasted with the 
steadiness of percepts ; a percept commands the attention 
by its insistence, whereas the image only grows distinct 
when transfixed by attention. Again, the image is wanting 
in those more definite muscular sensations which tell us 
that we are using the peripheral organ, e. g., the eye.* 
Other marks of difference present themselves when a closer 
examination is needed. Thus there is the obvious distinc- 
tion that images are not affected by movement, as percepts 
are, which appear and disappear as the eye moves towards 
or away from a particular point. These psychical differ- 
ences seem to be connected with the known differences of 
the neural process, viz., the restriction of the nervous cur- 
rent to the centres, and the absence of a full motor re- 
action. 

It may be added that such a distinction as we find 
drawn by normal persons when in health between the per- 
cept and the image obviously has a biological significance. 
If we were given to taking our images for percepts, so as 
to react upon them as such, we should plainly fail in bio- 
logical adjustment. This failure shows itself in those dis- 
tinctly abnormal states where the image reaches the stage 
of a hallucination, and the subject directs his actions to 
imaginary as distinguished from real objects in his sur- 
roundings. 

Coalescence of Image and Percept : Recognition 
of Objects. Just as in mature life we never have a sensa- 

* How far this difference assists in the discrimination is doubtful. As 
we saw above (p. 87), there is a certain amount of the muscular element in 
ideational attention. It seems, however, to be much less definite in this 
case. 



1 84 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion without some of that complicative process by which 
percepts are formed, so all our percepts embody a merged 
form of the image. It is evident, indeed, that, in recognis- 
ing an object seen before, the assimilation of the present 
percept to a former one involves the coalescence with this 
percept of the revived image of its predecessor. And since 
we never see wholly new objects, but assimilate even the 
so-called new ones in respect of their position in space, 
size, colour, and so forth, to objects previously known, it 
follows that there are image-rudiments in all our percepts. 

Such a nascent rudiment of an image must, however, be 
distinguished from an image proper. The process of as- 
similating a percept, and of calling up the image of an ob- 
ject now absent, are markedly different, and represent two 
stages of the reproductive process. We are often able to 
identify an object, as a face, when we actually see it, with- 
out having any corresponding power of imaging it when 
it is absent. The lower animals, which have at best only 
a rudimentary power of imaging, often display a marvel- 
lous power of recognising. The memory of the dog, as 
illustrated in the famous story of the recognition of Ulysses 
after years of travel, is proverbial.* 

Reaction of Image on Percept. In recognition the 
percept and the image are fused, the presence of the latter 
being indicated merely in the peculiar appearance of famil- 
iarity which the percept assumes. In many cases, however, 
the coalescence is preceded by a partial or complete sever- 
ance of the two factors. In these instances the percept 
is modified by an image which distinctly appears as such. 
This effect is known as the reaction of the image on the 
percept. 

The most common illustration of this action is that in 
which there is an ideational or imaginative preparation for 
the percept, or a stage of " pre-perception," as when after 

* Darwin purposely tried the memory of his dog, an animal averse to 
all strangers, and found that after a separation of more than five years 
he instantly obeyed his call as of old. {The Descent of Man, 2nd ed., 
P- 74-) 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 185 

expecting the arrival of a person the process of recognition 
is appreciably shortened {cf. above, p. 90).* It appears in 
a less distinct form, where, previously to the occurrence of 
the sensation, there has taken place a central excitation 
leading to a nascent or sub-conscious idea. Thus, if I visit 
a particular town, the idea of an acquaintance who happens 
to live there will be partially reinstated, so that, should he 
actually present himself, the recognition will be expedited. 

It may be added that the action of imagination on our 
sense-experience is beneficial only so long as a certain bal- 
ance between the two is maintained. Normal mental ac- 
tivity is that which adjusts itself to real circumstances, 
and so must start from, and be based upon, sense-presenta- 
tions. Hence the healthy influence of the image on the 
percept is restricted to the effect of furthering or expedit- 
ing the percept which would otherwise arise. If, however, 
the imaginative factor grows so masterful as to modify the 
distinctive characters of the sensation-complex, we have a 
tendency to illusion. This is the state of things in all con- 
ditions of unreasonable intensity of expectation, as when a 
frightened child takes a harmless object for a hobgoblin. 

Distinctness of Images. The chief merit or excel- 
lence of a representative image consists in its distinctness 
or clearness. By this is commonly meant that the image 
be definite and not vague, that the several parts or feat- 
ures of the object be distinctly pictured in their relations 
one to another. Thus we have a distinct image of a per- 
son's face when we call up its several features, as the out- 
line or contour of the whole, the shape of the mouth, and 
the colour of the eyes. On the other hand, the image is 
spoken of as indistinct, obscure, or vague when the details 
of the object are only imperfectly pictured. 

Closely connected with the distinctness of images as just 
defined is their distinctness in relation to other images. 

* It is proved that it takes about twice as long to read out a series of 
disconnected words as the same amount of connected discourse, the latter 
process being aided by continual anticipation of the coming ideas and 
words. 



1 86 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The expression " a distinct mental picture " seems, indeed, 
to have as one of its meanings perfect differentiation, or 
discriminative detachment from other images. Thus we are 
said to represent a face " distinctly " when we definitely 
apprehend its individual peculiarities. 

The terms clearness and distinctness seem to be employed almost in- 
terchangeably for each of the above aspects of images. If it were possible 
to break through a habit of speech, it might be advantageous, modifying 
the phraseology of Leibnitz, to use the antithesis clear — obscure with refer- 
ence to the first kind of distinctness (distinctness of parts or details), and 
the antithesis distinct — confused with reference to the second kind (distinct- 
ness of the whole). The close connexion between the terms distinct and 
clear will be illustrated again by and-by, in connexion with general ideas 
or concepts. 

It is customary to distinguish between the liveliness or vividness of an 
image and its distinctness. For purposes of knowledge the latter is more 
important than the former. Images are in general wanting in the intensity 
of the corresponding percepts. I do not visualise all the brightness of the 
sun, or all the depth of colouring of a sunset when I imagine it. There 
may be a fair degree of distinctness with a comparatively low degree of 
vividness ; and this seems to be the condition most favourable to clear 
thinking. 

Our mental imagery shows all degrees of distinctness. 
Many of our representations are vague, blurred, and indis- 
tinct, and as a consequence tend to be confused one with 
another. The statistical investigations of Mr. F. Galton 
into the nature of visual representation, or what he calls 
' visualisation,' go to show that this power varies greatly 
among individuals (of the same race), that many persons 
have very little ability to call up distinct mental pictures of 
such familiar objects as the breakfast-table. 

From this distinctness of an image it is important to 
distinguish its accuracy. By this is meant its fidelity as 
a copy, or its perfect correspondence with the original, the 
percept Want of distinctness commonly leads to inaccu- 
racy, if in no other respect, in that of deficiency. But 
what we ordinarily mean by an inaccurate image is some- 
thing more than a merely defective one. It implies the 
importation of some foreign element into the structure of 
the image. Thus we have an inaccurate image of a face 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 187 

when we ascribe a wrong colour to the eyes or a wrong 
height to the brow. It is probable that all images tend to 
become inaccurate, by way not only of loss, but of confu- 
sion, of elements, with the lapse of time. 

General Conditions of the Retention and Repro- 
duction of Percepts. The capability of representing an 
object or event some time after it has been perceived is not 
absolute, but is limited by certain conditions. These may 
be roughly summed up under the two following heads. In 
the first place the original impression must, in order to be 
subsequently revived, attain a certain degree of perfection 
in respect of vividness and clearness. We will call this 
condition the depth of the impression. In the second 
place, there is needed in ordinary cases the presence of 
something to remind us of the object or to suggest it to 
our minds. This second circumstance is known as the 
force of suggestion. 

(a) Depth of Impression : (i) Intensity, etc., of 
Sensation. In the first place, then, we may say that a 
distinct image presupposes a certain force and distinctness 
of the original impression. A moderately loud sound will 
in general be recalled better than a faint one, just because, 
as a sensation of greater intensity, it is stronger and more 
impressive, and makes a more successful appeal to the at- 
tention. For a similar reason, clearness and distinctness 
of impression are favourable to retention. A face distinctly 
seen with all its details is much more likely to be recalled 
than one indistinctly seen. For these reasons, actual im- 
pressions are in general much better recalled than products 
of imagination : for, as a rule, they surpass the latter in 
vividness and distinctness. We recall the appearance of a 
place we have seen better than one that has only been de- 
scribed to us. The habit of repeating words audibly when 
we want to remember them is based on this principle. As a 
last determining factor of a forcible impression may be named 
duration. Every fully-developed sensation requires an ap- 
preciable time. A momentary sound remains indistinct as 
to its quality, its direction, and so forth. Accordingly pro- 



1 88 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

longed sensations are as such of greater impressive force 
than momentary ones. 

(2) Attention as Condition of Retention. So far we 

have regarded an impression as conditioned by external 
circumstances. But, as we have seen, the intensity, dis- 
tinctness, and the duration of a sensation are partly de- 
termined by an internal condition, viz., the amount of reac- 
tion in the way of attention called forth. Hence we have 
to add that the depth, and consequently the revivability, of 
an impression depend on the degree of interest excited by 
the object and the corresponding vigour of the act of atten- 
tion. Where, for example, a boy is deeply interested in a 
spectacle, as a cricket match, he retains a distinct image of 
what has been seen. Such interest and direction of atten- 
tion ensure a clear discrimination of the object, both in its 
several parts or details, and as a whole. And, as we have 
seen, the fineness of the discriminative process in percep- 
tion is one main factor in the determination of the subse- 
quent retention. 

The nature and sources of interest have been sufficiently 
discussed above. The essential element in interest is feel- 
ing, and any marked accompaniment of feeling, whether 
pleasurable or painful, is, as we all know, a great aid to 
retention. Thus the events of our early childhood which we 
permanently retain commonly show an accompaniment of 
strong feeling, more particularly, perhaps, that of childish 
wonder at something new and marvellous, whether delight- 
ful or terrible. The effect of disagreeable feeling in fixing 
impressions is illustrated in the retention of the image of 
an ugly or malevolent-looking face, of words in a foreign 
language which have disagreeable associations, as bougie, 
douanier, to the English traveller. Where such a powerful 
intrinsic interest is wanting, a vigorous exercise of voluntary 
attention may bring about a permanent retention. But, as 
pointed out above, such voluntary attention is only effect- 
ive because it involves a feeling of interest. When we try 
to retain for social reasons a person's name, we are feeling 
at the moment a social interest in that name. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 189 

It is to be observed, finally, that even when the con- 
ditions just specified are equally favourable to retention 
the result may vary, owing to temporary variations of our 
psycho-physical state. The acquisition of a new impression 
involves a nervous formation, and this again depends on 
nutritive processes. Hence we are much more ready to 
note and to retain what presents itself to our senses when 
our sense-organs and nerve-centres are refreshed by rest 
and vigorous. It is commonly agreed that children take 
on new acquisitions better in the earlier part of the day 
when their psycho-physical organism is recuperated by 
sleep. Differences in emotional condition, again, which 
appear to involve variations in the energy and rapidity of 
brain-action, render us much more impressionable at some 
moments than at others. As more than one novelist have 
illustrated, moments of intense feeling appear to raise the 
plastic or acquisitive powers of the brain to a preternatural 
height, so that small insignificant details of the objects 
happening to present themselves at the moment are per- 
manently reflected in the mirror of the mind. 

(3) Repetition as Condition of Retention. We have 
thus far supposed that the object or event represented has 
been perceived but once only. But a single impression 
rarely suffices for a lasting representation. As we have 
seen, images tend to grow faint and indistinct ; hence they 
need to be re-invigorated by new impressions. Most of the 
experiences of life, including some of great and absorbing 
interest at the time of their occurrence, are forgotten just 
because they never recur in a sufficiently like form. The 
bulk of our mental imagery answers to objects which we see 
again and again, and events which occur repeatedly. Here 
then we have a second circumstance which helps to determine 
the depth of an impression. Every new repetition of an 
impression, provided the interval since the last is not long 
enough to produce effacement, tends to render the image 
more distinct and more stable. Where the repetition of the 
actual impression is impossible, the reproduction of it will 
serve, to some extent, to bring about a like result. We 



190 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



may fix verses and so forth in the memory by going over 
them mentally or inaudibly. In like manner, we keep the 
images of remote experiences from disappearing by periodi- 
cally reviving them, as when children talk with their parents 
about common experiences of the past. The points of simi- 
larity and dissimilarity between the physiological process 
in the case of the percept and of the image help us to un- 
derstand how this renewal of the image serves as an infe- 
rior substitute for the repetition of the original presentation. 
These two conditions, a certain amount of attention, 
and a certain frequency of repetition, may take the place 
of one another to some extent. Thus the more interest- 
ing an impression the smaller the number of repetitions 
necessary, as is illustrated in the words of the already- 
enamoured Juliet : — 

My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words 
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound. 

On the other hand, repeated impressions, even when not 
very interesting, as, for example, those of ubiquitous ad- 
vertisements, manage by their importunity to stamp them- 
selves on the memory. 

At the same time, it may be said that, in all cases alike, 
the two conditions co-operate, though in very unequal 
quantities. As we have just seen, repetition, if only in the 
form of recurrence of image, is needed to supplement the 
effect of attention. And, on the other hand, mere repeti- 
tion, without some amount of interested attention, is in- 
effectual. Even the stupid advertisement possesses the 
momentary attractiveness of a sudden and exciting visual 
sensation. Many persons cannot distinctly represent even 
so familiar an object as their friend's face, just because 
they have never carefully attended to its several features, 
for their own sake, as a stranger would observe them. 

(b) Laws of Suggestion : Association. When an 
impression has, under the influence of the above favourable 
conditions, been fixed on the mind there remains a predis- 
position or tendency to reproduce it under the form of an 
image. The degree of facility with which we recall any 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. IO j 

object always depends in part on the strength of this pre- 
disposition. Nevertheless, this tendency will not in ordi- 
nary cases suffice in itself to effect a reinstatement after a 
certain time has elapsed. There is needed as a further con- 
dition the presence at the moment of some second presen- 
tation (or representation) which serves to suggest or call up 
the image, or remind us of the event or object. Thus the 
sight of a building, as our old school, reminds us of events 
which happened there, the sound of a friend's name, of that 
friend, and so on. Such a reminder may be spoken of as 
the ' exciting ' cause in contradistinction to the first or 
' predisposing ' cause. The reason why the large majority 
of our life-experiences, including our deeply - impressive 
dreams, are so readily forgotten is that they are not brought 
into relation to other facts which would serve to remind us 
of them. 

Now we are reminded of a presentation by some other 
presentation (or image) which is somehow related to, con- 
nected with, or, as we commonly express it, ' associated ' 
with it. Thus it is plain that the events of our school-life 
are associated with the particular building which recalls 
them, and similarly the person with his name. Hence we 
speak of association as the second great condition of re- 
production. 

Laws of Suggestion : Contiguity. 

Reproduction as Effect of Suggestion. The gen- 
eral nature of association has already been discussed. So 
far, however, we have only been engaged with it in its more 
rudimentary form, that is to say, as the process by which 
presentative and representative elements are perfectly inte- 
grated and unified into percepts. We have now to trace 
the workings of association in the higher domain of idea- 
tion, that is to say, in the succession of distinct psychical 
products, viz., images or ideas. Association is the term com- 
monly used to cover the processes or laws involved in the 
succession, flow or train of our thoughts. 

It has been held by psychologists generally that the re- 



192 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



vival of images or ideas follows in all cases certain Laws, 
viz., Laws of Association, or, as they have been called by 
some, Laws of Suggestion. Thus Hume regards them as 
filling in the world of mind a place similar to the universal 
Law of Gravitation in the physical world. It was shown 
by Hobbes that in cases where we pass from one idea to 
another in a seemingly disconnected manner there are hid- 
den bonds of association to be detected by careful exami- 
nation.* 

Presentations may suggest one another in a variety of 
ways answering to different relations between them. Thus, 
if we let A stand for the antecedent or reminder, B for the 
consequent or the representation called up, we see that A 
and B may correspond to two objects locally connected, 
as two adjacent buildings; or to two events following one 
another in time, as sunset and the coming on of darkness ; 
or, again, to two like objects, as a portrait and the original. 
These various kinds of relation, or bonds of connexion be- 
tween presentations, have long since been reduced to cer- 
tain comprehensive principles or laws. 

Association of Ideas by Contiguity : Statement 
of Law. Of the several distinguishable modes or varieties 
of association the most important is that already touched 
on, viz., Contiguity. By this is meant the association of 
two or more presentations through, or on the ground of, 
their proximity in time, whether under the form of simul- 
taneity or of succession. This is illustrated in such familiar 
experiences as the suggestion of the sensations of a cool 
plunge by the sight of a sheet of water ; or that of a per- 
son's form, voice, and so forth, by the sound of his name. 
This variety of association, which is recognised by most 
psychologists as the principal if not the only one, evi- 
dently corresponds to that process of integrative asso- 
ciation considered above. It may be roughly stated as 

* It is uncertain whether this associative revival is the universal form, 
or whether in certain cases there is also a spontaneous form of revival 
due to a direct action of the blood-supply on the central nervous ele- 
ments. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



193 



follows : Presentations which occur together, whether simul- 
taneously or in close succession, tend afterwards to revive or 
suggest one another. 

This Law of Contiguous Association may readily be 
seen to cover the larger part of our ideational connexions. 
Thus, it includes (1) all merely temporal connexions, as 
those between simultaneous events, e. g., sunlight and in- 
crease of warmth, or successive ones, as the flash of light- 
ning and the peal of thunder. Since causal connexion, 
whatever else it is, clearly involves sequence of events, it is 
evident that the connecting of things with their causes or 
their effects illustrates this bond of temporal attachment. 
(2) Again, the Law of Contiguity embraces all object asso- 
ciations, or association of quality (not directly involved in 
the percept), use, and so forth, with things, as the voice of 
a person with that person, the use of iron with that sub- 
stance. (3) Once more, it covers all local associations, or 
those connexions in which locality is a binding element ; as 
the association of wild-flowers with the field or hedge-row, 
the meal with the table, the agitating thoughts of the ex- 
amination with the sight of the examination-room. Lo- 
cality, as has been recognised in ancient and modern times, 
is a powerful aid to revival. (4) As a last group we may 
take verbal associations, or those numerous connexions 
into which words enter, as names with objects, one word of 
a sentence with the related words, and so forth. 

Conditions of Contiguous Integration : (a) Prox- 
imity in Time. To begin with, then, the Law of Conti- 
guity plainly asserts that proximity in time, pure and sim- 
ple, constitutes a sufficient ground of association. In other 
words, no real objective bond, as that of causal connexion 
between the facts presented, is needed for the generation 
of a contiguous cohesion. This is evident from the com- 
mon observation that the most disconnected elements of 
experience, if they only happen to present themselves at 
the same time, are liable to become associated one with 
another. In this way we associate persons with places 
with which they hold no relation beyond the momentary 
13 



194 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



one of having been there at a particular moment. This 
formation of accidental associations is specially conspicu- 
ous in the cases of children and the uneducated, whose 
minds have not come under the controlling influence of 
logical thought. 

The degree of the efficacy of contiguity as a forger of 
the associative link turns on the proximity of the presenta- 
tions. Thus, of all contiguous associations those between 
simultaneous presentations are strongest, as we see in the 
revival of the sound of a clock by the sight of the swing- 
ing pendulum. Similarly, presentations separated by an 
interval of time are less firmly associated than those which 
are strictly contiguous in time. 

(b) Combining Movement of Attention. Mere prox- 
imity in time gives us only the limiting condition of con- 
tiguous suggestion. Many impressions, however, occur 
together without afterwards reviving one another. Thus 
a particular sight or sound may synchronise with a multi- 
tude of sensations, including the large group of organic 
sensations, and yet only enter into effective connexion with 
one or two of these. A more special condition of contigu- 
ous association must be looked for in the process of atten- 
tion. Just as attention gives vividness to the percept con- 
sidered as an isolated psychical content, and thus favours 
its revivability, so it serves to bind together two or more 
of such contents. 

The effect of attention on the process of contiguous in- 
tegration is illustrated in the case of successive presenta- 
tions, as the letters of the alphabet. Here, as is well 
known, suggestive revival takes place much more readily 
in the forward direction than in the reverse, the probable 
reason being that in the forward recall we are renewing 
the original order of the successive adjustments of atten- 
tion. The action of attention on the order of revival is 
further illustrated in the selection under the lead of interest 
of a particular group from among a multitude of impres- 
sions, as when we successively fix the eye on certain inter- 
esting details of a landscape, the river in the foreground, 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



195 



the mountains in the background, etc., and afterwards re- 
call these in the original order. 

The formation of the associative bond will be more per- 
fect the more immediate this transition of attention. Thus 
we associate the appearance and the name of a person when 
we bring them together as closely as possible and grasp 
them in one comprehensive act, or in rapidly successive 
acts of attention. 

(2) We may now pass to the other point in the action of 
attention, viz., the effect of the quantity of attention be- 
stowed. It is true of a conjunction of presentations, as of 
a single presentation, that the degree of retention varies 
with the intensity or vigour of the process of attention. 
The firm associations that are apt to form themselves in 
moments of excitement are explained by this circumstance. 
In watching a fire or other stirring and awful spectacle the 
several features of the scene are wont to cohere because of 
the preternatural vigour or energy of the observant pro- 
cess. Where, on the other hand, attention is feeble, as in 
much of our habitual listless survey of our street and other 
surroundings, the links of connexion are liable to remain 
half-formed and useless. 

It follows from this action of attention in singling out 
and pinning together certain specially interesting parts of 
the presentation-complex, that the order of mental combi- 
nation is not a mere reflexion of the external order. In 
the process of association the leadings of interest prompt 
us to build up out of the presentative materials given a 
new and particular order. And to this extent all memory, 
like art-construction, may be said to idealise the actual by 
a process of selective arrangement. 

(c) Repetition and Association. As a last factor 
serving to determine the special directions and the strength 
of contiguous association we have repetition. Just as the 
renewal of a single percept strengthens the corresponding 
image, so the recurrence of two or more percepts in the 
same temporal conjunction strengthens the cohesive bond 
between them. Most of our common retentions illustrate 



196 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



this effect. Thus the learning of the names of objects, 
and of periodically recurring conjunctions and sequences 
of natural phenomena, as light and heat, a blow and a pain- 
ful sensation, and so forth, is an effect of repeated co-pres- 
entation. 

This effect of repetition may be conceived of in physi- 
ological language. If the excitation of two central ele- 
ments simultaneously or in immediate succession tends (in 
some way not perfectly explicable as yet) to develop a nerv- 
ous connexion or channel of communication between them, 
it would follow that the repetition of this process would 
serve to strengthen the nervous bond. 

Recent investigation enables us to measure the effect of repetition with 
some exactness. It has been found that the effect of learning a series of 
(nonsense) syllables in shortening the process of re-learning twenty-four 
hours later may be expressed as follows : Every three repetitions to-day effects 
a saving of one repetition to-morrow. The saving does not, however, con- 
tinue in the same ratio when the number of repetitions is greatly increased. 

A word may be added on the connexion between repe- 
tition and attention as joint factors in the formation of 
contiguous bonds. Repetition may, as was hinted above, 
be said to be a mode of increasing the amount of attention 
given to presentations. Yet the two conditions must be 
kept distinct, if only for the reason that repetition as such 
modifies the attention. Thus juxtapositions of impressions 
that arrest attention on their first occurrence, especially 
those involving a striking contrast, as between two very 
unlike members of a family, or a big-sounding name and 
an insignificant-looking person, lose this attractiveness by 
their very repetition. On the other hand, repetition is in a 
certain class of cases a main condition in the awakening of 
attention to a conjunction. This applies to all cases where 
we are interested in discovering a general connexion. Thus 
a schoolmaster is struck by the recurrence of the juxtaposi- 
tion of disorder and the presence of a certain boy or boys; 
the scientific observer, by the recurrence of the conjunction 
between the growth of certain plants and particular circum- 
stances of soil. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



I 9 7 



Derivative Laws of Associational Revival. If now 

we combine what has just been said respecting the condi- 
tions of contiguous association with what was said above 
concerning the circumstances which favour the revival of 
presentations considered as separate units, we reach the 
following results, which may be regarded as a fairly com- 
plete account of the process of suggestion as far as we 
have yet considered it : — 

(i) If we let A stand for the reviving presentation or 
suggestion, b the representation (corresponding to the pres- 
entation B) suggested, we may say, that the revival of b 
by A depends, first of all, on the independent values of the two 
combining factors A and B. Thus it is favoured by the 
strength (intensity and persistence) of A, as we see in the 
greater suggestive force which presentations have in gen- 
eral, as compared with representations. Again, it depends 
on the depth of the impression B as determined by its in- 
terest and its total repetition in varying connexions. To 
this it must be added that the recent occurrence of B is an 
important aid to its revival in all cases. Persons, places, 
and so forth are the more readily suggested by contiguous 
links when they have recently been presented. 

(2) The revival of b by A will be the more certain and 
the more rapid the greater the strength of the cohesive bond 
between them, as determined by proximity, repetition, etc. 

(3) It follows that if A is presented at different times 
with other concomitants besides B, as for example D and 
K, it will tend to revive not only a, but d and k. In this 
case there will be an opposition or inhibition of suggestive 
tendencies. Here then we must say that A's power of re- 
viving b will depend on the preponderance of the interest and 
the frequency of the particular conjunction over those of other con- 
junctions, e. g., A — D and A — K. A proper name instantly 
calls up the image of the place or person because the sug- 
gestive force works all in one direction. This is the most 
favourable situation. Next to this we have the situation of 
predominant interest and frequency, as when the general 
name island calls up our favourite island, the Isle of Wight. 



198 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



It follows from this brief statement of the complex con- 
ditions of associational reproduction that it is a highly va- 
riable result. The same antecedent presentation, say the 
sound of a particular name, the sight of a particular person, 
is by no means always followed by one and the same idea- 
tional consequent. The result will vary with a number of 
variable conditions, as the subject's particular mental state, 
the tendency of a particular image to recur at the moment, 
and so forth. 

Experimental Investigations into Association. Some interesting 
experimental inquiries into the workings of association have recently been 
carried out in England and in Germany. The special object of these ex- 
periments has been to determine what is called Association-time, that is, 
the time required for a presentation, as a spoken or written word, to call 
up a connected idea. Among the results reached are the following facts : 
Associations with words which reach back to early life recur most readily. 
The sound answering to a printed letter is revived by means of this last 
more rapidly than the name of a colour by the sight of the colour. The 
association-time is in general less in normal than in abnormal conditions 
of mind. 

Trains of Representations. As already implied, con- 
tiguous association binds together not only presentative 
couples but whole groups or aggregates. These aggregates 
may be combined on the ground of simultaneity, or, what 
is virtually equivalent to this, spatial co-existence, as when 
we group together a number of historical events as happen- 
ing in the same year or reign without reference to the or- 
der of succession among them, or when we link on a num- 
ber of various experiences with one and the same place. 
Here, it is evident, no one order of succession is favoured 
over others. Thus the sight of a locality A will call up now 
the order b, d, /, now /, b, d, and so on, according to the 
variable circumstances of the moment. 

In other cases, and these form an important class, the 
aggregates arrange themselves in a linear or serial form, 
so that we uniformly pass through the succession, A, b, c, 
d, etc. Such successions are called trains of images. A 
large part of our ideal acquisitions assume the form of 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 



I 99 



such a train. Thus our representation of the regularly re- 
curring series of natural phenomena, as the periodic succes- 
sion of day and night, the seasons, and so forth, takes on 
this form. In like manner, a prolonged visible action, as 
that of a play, and a succession of sounds, as that of a 
tune, give rise to a representative train. As already 
pointed out, such series tend to be recalled in the order of 
the original presentations. 

The above statement of the Law of Contiguity, which 
speaks of close succession, would suggest that each mem- 
ber of a series is associated only with its proximate antece- 
dent and consequent. Thus in the alphabet series we com- 
monly think of p as attached merely to and to q. This, 
however, is not correct. Experiment shows that members 
of a series are associated also, though more loosely, with 
remote members. It follows that the revival of/ in run- 
ning over the alphabet is the result of the conjoint suggest- 
ive action of all the preceding letters. Similarly the begin- 
ning of the last line of a verse of poetry is recalled by the 
conjoint action of all the words in the preceding lines. 

The effects of repetition in the case of such chains are 
very marked. The frequency of the succession tends, by 
the help of an organisation of the nervous processes in- 
volved, to an easy and semi-mechanical form of reproduc- 
tion, in which attention to the several individual members 
of the series is at its minimum. This may be illustrated in 
mentally running over the familiar series of the alphabet. 

Composite Trains : Motor Successions. In nearly 
all instances of representative trains we have to do not 
with a single series of elements, but with a number of con- 
current series. For instance, our representation of a play is 
made up of a visual series, answering to the several scenes 
and movements of the actors, and an auditory series, an- 
swering to the flow of the dialogue. The effect of repe- 
tition here, supposing the two series to be both interesting, 
is to bind together the several elements of each successive 
complex experience into one whole, and each of these 
wholes to succeeding ones. Thus each visible situation 



200 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

will become associated with the corresponding words, and 
this composite whole associated with what precedes and 
follows it. Frequent repetition tends to consolidate each 
successive group into one complex representation, so that 
the whole series approximates to a single series. Such 
complete reinstatement of a composite series is, however, 
difficult, as may be seen in the familiar experience that it 
is far easier to learn a series of words alone, or a melody 
apart, than to learn the words and tune together for sing- 
ing purposes. Hence, perhaps, the tendency in recalling a 
composite series like that of a dramatic performance to 
revive with special vividness, now the visual, now the au- 
ditory train. 

Among these recurring composite trains of images are 
those answering to our repeated or habitual actions. Every 
voluntary movement presupposes, as we shall see, an ante- 
cedent representation of that movement ; and consequently 
where there is a succession of movements we must view 
each step as preceded by the appropriate motor image. 
Further, since the carrying out of a movement transforms 
the anticipatory motor image into the corresponding sensa- 
tion-complex, it follows that in performing a series of fa- 
miliar movements, as in dressing, or playing a tune from 
memory, we have each representative element immedi- 
ately preceded and excited by an associated presentation ; 
the whole series assuming the form m 1 M 1 — m 2 M a — m* M 3 , 
etc., where M stands for motor presentation, m for motor 
representation, and the horizontal line indicates sugges- 
tion by contiguity.* 

Not only so, along with this motor chain there goes one 
or more series of purely sensory elements, also representa- 
tive and presentative. Thus in walking there is not only 
the series of motor images and corresponding muscular 

* This applies only to series of voluntary movements before they have 
grown automatic by habit. After this the representative element, m, may, 
as we shall see, drop out. It may be added that when we are merely 
imagining, and not actually executing, a familiar series of movements, the 
series will assume the simpler form M 1 — /« 2 — /« 3 , etc. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 2 OI 

sensations, but another consisting of the tactual images 
and sensations connected with the bringing of the feet al- 
ternately to the ground, and in most cases, too, a visual 
series arising from the changing appearances of the moving 
limbs, and of the ground. So in singing or speaking the 
succession of vocal (motor) representations is bound up with 
one of auditory images. 

In general the motor elements are weak as compared 
with the sensory. Hence the train of motor representa- 
tions may be said to depend on the presence of the sensory 
elements. Thus, in writing, the succession of manual move- 
ments is directed or controlled by the visual impressions. 
How much this is the case may be known by the simple 
experiment of trying to write in the dark. 

The effect of frequent repetition of practice in such 
cases is to dispense with that close attention to the de- 
tailed elements of the composite train which was necessary 
at first. This is seen in the fact that the sensory elements 
which had first to be distinctly attended to become indis- 
tinct. Thus a young pianist learning her notes has at first 
to look at her fingers. Later on she can strike the notes 
with only an indistinct indirect glance at them. In this 
way practice tends, to a considerable extent, to render a 
chain of movements independent of sensory elements.* 
The final outcome of this repetition is a habitual or quasi- 
automatic action in which all the psychical elements, pres- 
entations and representations alike, become indistinct. 

Verbal Integrations. Among the most important of 
our associations are those of words. Language is the me- 
dium by which we commonly recall presentations. This 
arises from the circumstance that we are social beings, de- 
pendent on communication with others. If, further, it is 
remembered that language is the medium by which all the 
higher products of intellectual activity are retained and re- 
called, its importance will be still more apparent. 

* That the sensory elements are still present as indistinctly recognised 
factors is seen in the fact that a man who has lost skin-sensibility and so 
does not feel the touch of the ground has to look at his feet in order to walk. 



202 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

(a) The Word - Complex. A little attention will 
show that our common verbal acquisitions are highly com- 
plex results of contiguous association. To begin with, each 
element of a word is an aggregate of disparate sense-ele- 
ments, viz., the sound, the movements of articulation, and in 
the case of the educated the corresponding visual symbol. 
Of these the sound and the articulation are the fundamental 
portion. A child in learning to utter the sound o or t must 
combine a particular sensation of sound with the correspond- 
ing articulatory process as made known by its characteristic 
muscular and other sensations {e.g., the sensations accompa- 
nying the closing of the lips, the moving the tongue against 
the teeth). This association as a psycho-physical process 
clearly involves the formation of a nervous connexion be- 
tween the two distinct central regions of audition and ar- 
ticulatory movements. 

The process of acquisition is that of motor association 
in general : certain sensations call up connected motor 
representations and through these bring on the actual 
movements. Thus a child that has learned to articulate/ 
does so by first representing the sound, and along with this, 
the muscular sensations atl ending the corresponding ar- 
ticulatory movement. The importance of the sensation of 
sound as a controlling element in this process of articula- 
tory reinstatement is seen in the fact that, in the case of 
those born deaf, articulation can only be learnt by substi- 
tuting some other guiding sensation as the visual im- 
pression received from observing the movements of the 
lips and other parts of the articulatory apparatus. 

What we call a word is a serial combination of a number 
of such associated couples. Observation of children learn- 
ing to speak, and of persons losing the faculty from disease 
or old age, shows that the firm retention of the members of 
such a series in their proper order is a matter of some diffi- 
culty, presupposing practice, and the integrity and proper 
working of certain nervous arrangements. 

{b) Ideo-verbal Integration. A word, however, is 
more than a series of auditory and motor complexes. It 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



203 



involves the association of this series with a particular im- 
age or idea. This association again depends on a further 
process of central nervous formation, the connected ele- 
ments of the auditory and articulatory centre being con- 
joined with certain elements in the particular centre of idea- 
tion involved. 

The relation of the word-complex to the idea illustrates 
the strongest form of contiguous attachment. As we all 
know, the word, especially when actually spoken or heard, 
and not merely imaged, is apt to call up the associated idea 
with exceptional vividness. In early life, when names are 
signs of concrete or pictorial ideas, this verbal suggestion 
of imagery is particularly powerful. This is due in part to 
the childish tendency to ' reify ' the name, that is, to regard 
it as a part of the real thing itself, instead of something 
extraneous and arbitrarily attached to it. 

It is somewhat uncertain how far the several elements of the word- 
complex enter into our word-aided ideational processes. That the auditory 
and motor (articulatory) factor are the fundamental part of these repro- 
ductions seems to be pretty firmly established. The prominence of the 
motor element is illustrated in the tendency of children, the uneducated, 
and of all of us when excited, to " think aloud." Yet there seems to be 
considerable difference in this respect among individuals. 

(c) Ideo-verbal Series. The verbal complexes just 
spoken of, together with their associated ideas, are capable 
of being further integrated into series answering to the in- 
telligible structures of language. To learn language neces- 
sarily involves these serial formations. Not only so, but 
as will appear by-and-by, our power of following out 
trains of ideas or of thinking is limited by the stock of such 
verbal acquisitions. In all our more difficult thinking 
operations words play a prominent part. 

The formation of such verbal series has for its con- 
ditions those of composite trains in general. First of all, 
the integration of the several word-complexes is presup- 
posed. A child cannot arrange words in an intelligible 
order till he has firmly associated the parts of the word- 
complex one with another and the whole complex with the 



204 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



idea. When this rudimentary part of the process is mas- 
tered, the linking on of words and ideas in series turns on a 
careful attention to words in their order of succession, as 
also to the relations of time, place, and so forth, among the 
ideas expressed by this order. 

It is here assumed that the verbal trains are compounded 
of words and their associated ideas. Learning, in the tech- 
nical sense, i.e., learning by heart, involves this double chain. 
At the same time, the two series are by no means equally 
prominent in all cases. As every teacher knows, words 
may be strung together and reproduced with only a very 
fair accompaniment of ideas. This result turns on the 
facilities with which the verbal complexes are serially in- 
tegrated, especially in the early years of life. This is best 
illustrated in that mode of acquisition much decried by 
Locke and other educationists, viz., learning by rote. At the 
same time it must be remembered that verbal cohesion con- 
stitutes a valuable support of the reproductive process even 
where the ideas are also retained. This is illustrated in the 
fact that Macaulay and other men of wide and accurate 
knowledge have been distinguished also by the fulness and 
exactness of their verbal reproduction. 

Memory and Expectation. Our images and trains 
of images are commonly accompanied by some more or less 
distinct reference to the corresponding presentations, and 
to the time-order of their occurrence. This complete rep- 
resentation of presentations or sense-experiences in their 
time-relations involves a further intellectual element, to 
be dealt with by-and-by, viz., a belief in the corresponding 
events as real occurrences. In some cases, no doubt, this 
accompaniment is of the vaguest kind. In a state of list- 
less reverie we may have a series of images without any 
distinct reference to the corresponding experiences. We 
simply picture the objects, without reflecting where or 
when we have seen them or shall or might see them. In 
other cases, however, we distinctly refer the images to some 
place in the time-order of our experience. This reference 
assumes one or two well-marked forms : (a) a reference to 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



205 



the past or memory, or, to describe the process more fully, 
memory of events, and (b) a reference to the future or ex- 
pectation. 

Both memory and expectation involve a series of images 
succeeding one another in time, and both illustrate the sug- 
gestive force of contiguous association. Thus in remem- 
bering the events of a particular day we retrace the suc- 
cession of experiences, the images of these following in the 
order of the events, and being temporarily ' localised ' in 
this order. Similarly, in anticipating the succession of the 
events of a journey resembling one already performed, we 
pass over a succession of images having the same time- 
order as the events of which they are the representations, 
and held together by the bond of contiguity. 

While thus both modes of associative suggestion, they 
are different modes. In the case of memory the images are 
projected backwards in time, or are recognised 'as representing 
past experiences ; in the case of expectation, on the other 
hand, they are projected forwards, and the presentations 
viewed as following the present actual one. The nature of 
this difference will be discussed more fully presently. 

Again, memory and expectation, though both modes of 
belief, are perfectly distinct modes. Since in memory we 
have to do with a reality which is over, the mind is in a 
comparatively passive attitude with respect to it. The 
train of memory-images may indeed excite faint feelings of 
regret or longing, but these are momentary only, and we 
resign ourselves to the fact that the events are past. In 
expectation, on the other hand, the mental attitude is one 
of strenuous activity. There is a preparatory fixation of 
the attention, and, further, a readiness to act in conformity 
with the expected occurrence. 

Representation of Time. 

Perception and Idea of Time. We have already 
considered the process of time-apprehension in its simplest 
form, commonly spoken of as a perception. It remains to 
inquire into the higher form of time-consciousness, viz., the 



206 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

representation or idea of relations of succession and of 
duration. This time-consciousness, in its most developed 
form, is one of the most elaborate of intellectual products, 
involving processes not yet dealt with. Nevertheless, inas- 
much as it is based on the contiguous association of suc- 
cessive presentations, it may be convenient to deal with it 
at this stage. 

It is difficult for us at first to conceive that a child could 
ever have had a succession of unlike experiences and not 
instantly referred these to their positions in the time-order 
as before and after. Yet there is every reason to think 
that the knowledge of time is a somewhat late acquisition. 
In its developed form the representation of events in their 
temporal order is attained much later than that of objects 
in their spatial or local order. Thus a child of three and a 
half years, who had a very precise knowledge of the rela- 
tive situations of the several localities visited in his walks, 
showed that he had no definite representations answering 
to such time-divisions as ' this week,' ' last week,' and still 
tended to think of 'yesterday ' as an undefined past. 

Consciousness of Succession. The representation 
of time begins with the recognition of two successive ex- 
periences as such. This, as already remarked, implies, in 
addition to the mere fact of succession, a subsequent men- 
tal process, viz., a representation of antecedent and consequent 
together as successive. And this again, as we saw also, pre- 
supposes the persistence of presentations for an appreciable 
period, and an overlapping of the image of a preceding 
sensation with the actual sensation of the moment, and, as 
a condition of this, an overlapping of the correlated nervous 
processes. 

The first apprehension of a time-order in our experience 
involves the contrast of presentation and representation, of 
percept and idea, already spoken of. All arrangement of 
psychical elements in time is an ordering of representations 
in relation to an actual present.* The simplest form of 

* Strictly speaking the actual present is an unreal abstraction. It is a 
sort of mathematical point which is continually changing, and has ceased 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



207 



such arrangement is the relating of a represented expe- 
rience as immediately antecedent or consequent to the 
actual present one ; and the most elaborate time-construc- 
tion is but an expansion of this process. 

Representation of Past and Future. The simplest 
form of time-representation would seem to arise in the fol- 
lowing way. A child is watching some interesting object, 
say the play of the sunbeam on the wall of his nursery. 
Suddenly the sun is obscured by a cloud and the marvel of 
the dancing light vanishes. In place of the golden brill- 
iance there now stands the dull commonplace wall-paper. 
This cessation, however, as we saw above, does not imply 
a total disappearance of the presentation. It persists as 
image, and attracts the attention by reason of its interest- 
ingness. At the same time there is the actual present, the 
sight of the sunless wall. Here, then, both presentation 
and representation, the actual experience of the now, and 
the represented experience which is not-now, occur simul- 
taneously, and so supply the most favourable conditions 
for the development of a consciousness of their difference 
or contrast. 

Not only, however, would a ' now ' and ' not-now ' be 
distinguished in this experience. The representation a and 
the presentation B would, in the case supposed, tend to 
group themselves in a certain temporal order. Every time 
the attention was recalled to a (by reason of its persistence 
and interestingness), it would tend (following the direction 
of its movement in successively fixing the presentations 
A, B) to be carried on to B. That is to say, a would take up 
its place as an antecedent to B, and the relation of the corre- 
sponding presentations A, B, would thus be represented as 
a transition from A to B, and not conversely. And this 
apprehension would be aided by the fact that a declines in 
intensity and distinctness, while B, as the actual presenta- 

to be present before the process of attentive reflexion on it is developed. 
What we are in the habit of calling the present is the sensation-complex of 
the moment together with its escort of representative elements answering 
to immediately preceding and immediately succeeding presentations. 



208 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion, persists in tact, and so gains in force relatively to a. 
In this way we may suppose the vague representation of a 
'not-now' to be developed into the more definite repre- 
sentation of a ' no-longer.' 

Let us now take the case of anticipation. The repre- 
sentation of a future may be supposed to arise like that of 
a past, in connexion with an actual present. Here, it is 
obvious, the previous occurrence of the succession is pre- 
supposed. A presentation A calls up a representation b as 
its consequent, because the sequence A — B has occurred 
before, and the two presentations in consequence become 
associated. Now, if there is an interval between the call- 
ing up of the image and the realisation of the correspond- 
ing percept, there are the conditions for the genesis of a 
representation of a future. 

In order to retrace the process, we will imagine the situ- 
ation of a hungry child who sees all the preparations of his 
food. Under these circumstances the representation of the 
pleasurable experience of eating is suggested by strong 
contiguous links. Here again, then, there are all the con- 
ditions for noting the contrast of presentation and repre- 
sentation, the realised 'now ' and the unrealised 'not-now.' 
In this case, however, the relation of representation and 
presentation would be apprehended as different from that 
in the first case. During the prolonged existence of the 
two in mental juxtaposition, the child would discover that 
every time the actual presentation A rose into distinct con- 
sciousness it would be followed by the representation b. 
The presentation and representation would thus assume a 
different temporal order in this case from that taken up in 
the first. Through repeated mental transitions from A to 
b, moreover, b would gain in force, and not lose, as in the 
former case. Here, then, the vague representation of a 
1 not-now ' will be differentiated into the representation of a 
' not-yet.' 

The representation of a number of successions, or of a time-series, 
would take place in much the same way, in connexion with an actual pres- 
entation. Suppose a series of presentations A, B, C, D . . . H. Then 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



209 



when the presentation H occurs, the representations a, b, c, d, etc., may, as 
we have seen, still persist in consciousness. Now, in considering in rapid 
succession such a group of images, the attention is (as was pointed out 
above) determined to a certain order. Thus, it moves easily and smoothly 
in the order abc, but only with difficulty along another order, say cba, or 
cab. Hence the particular temporal order assigned to the events. In this 
case, too, the differences in the intensity of the several images, which are 
due to the fact that certain members of the sensational train having oc- 
curred longer ago have become more effaced, would make themselves felt, 
and serve as additional " temporal signs," or clues to the temporal order of 
the events. 

Representation of Duration. A second aspect of 
time, over and above mere succession, is duration. This 
aspect is given from the first, along with succession. As 
pointed out above, all sensations are apprehended as last- 
ing or occupying so much time. Similarly with ideas and 
other psychical states. The sense of duration shows itself 
commonly as apprehension of interval between sensations, e.g., 
those of two clock-strokes.* And so our several experi- 
ences come to be thought of not merely as preceding or 
succeeding another, but as each occupying so much time, 
and further, as separated from one another by certain time- 
intervals or distances. In other words, time, like space, is 
made up of relations of position and of distance. 

It is, however, only after a certain range of experience, 
and a certain development of reflective power, that a child 
begins to be distinctly aware of time as duration. As long 
as his sensations and thoughts are all-absorbing, and at- 
tention is not called off to the fact of duration, he remains 
unconscious of it. In order to the development of this 
consciousness of time, there must be something in the ex- 
perience which serves to divert the attention to this par- 
ticular aspect of it. A child, for example, might be led to 
this kind of reflexion when told to wait for the satisfaction 
of an expressed wish. In this situation of prolonged an- 
ticipation, an attitude at once difficult to maintain and very 
fatiguing, we may suppose the first vague consciousness of 

* Such intervals are probably measured by help of persistent organic 
and other sensations. 
14 



2io OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

duration to arise in connexion with a feeling of tedium or 
ennui. 

That the appreciation of duration begins in this way 
may be seen by observation of children, who first speak 
about 'long time' and 'short time' with reference to 
strongly desired futures. It is further illustrated in the 
familiar fact that we all realise duration most vividly when 
called on to wait for something in circumstances that offer 
no distractions, as for a train at a railway station. With 
this vivid and exaggerated sense of duration there con- 
trasts the underestimation of it during other and more es- 
pecially deeply interesting and absorbing experiences. 

So far we have spoken of the consciousness and estima- 
tion of time during the period concerned. From this con- 
temporary estimate we must distinguish the retrospective 
and the prospective apprehension and measurement of du- 
ration. As is well known, this is not identical with the first. 
The waiting at the railway station, which seemed so long 
while it lasted, looks short enough afterwards; and a day's 
holiday, which is boundless to the sanguine anticipation of a 
boy, seems to shrink painfully as it is taken possession of. 

Here the other aspect, viz., time-succession, comes in as 
a factor in the time-estimation. We seem, no doubt, to be 
able to estimate time to some extent by means of a persist- 
ent unchanging sensation, as in judging of the duration 
of a tone; yet change is certainly necessary for defining a 
duration, just as a sensation of contact is needed for limit- 
ing the extent of (empty) space. Not only so, in all our 
more complex representations of time duration of single 
experiences, and succession of experiences, are both in- 
volved. Thus it is well known that in the retrospective 
and prospective estimate of time the number of represented 
elements forming the content of the period directly affects 
the result. Days or weeks, filled with many new, striking, 
and interesting experiences, appear, on that account, both 
in prospect and in retrospect, exceptionally long.* 

* It is to be noted that even in the estimation of the duration of persist- 
ent sensations, as tones, change is always present in the rhythmic rise and 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 2 II 

The Temporal Scheme. Our complete representa- 
tion of the time-order whether past or future is that of 
a succession of experiences or events having a certain du- 
ration, and lying at certain distances or intervals one from 
another. In this way we represent the events of a particu- 
lar week, the successive incidents of a tour, and so forth. 
This complex representation is only acquired after a con- 
siderable development of the power of reproduction and of 
reflexion. It involves, in addition to reproductions of indi- 
vidual experiences, a comparison of their order with that of 
others' experiences. A word or two must suffice to indi- 
cate the course of this development. 

With respect to the temporal order of our experiences 
we are all aided greatly by certain conventional arrange- 
ments, more particularly the divisions of time into periods, 
as years, seasons of the year, months, weeks, days, and sub- 
divisions of these. This arrangement enables us to date 
any experience we are able to fix in our minds by attach- 
ing it to a particular division. . Our common experiences 
are in this way ordered similarly in a common time-scheme. 
Thus, all members of a family come to think of an event 
of common interest, such as the migration into a new home, 
as having happened at a certain date. By help of this 
same common time-scheme the individual is able to retrace 
portions of his past which are only very imperfectly reviv- 
able. 

This constructive process is completed in the case of 
all of us by a common reference to an "objective" stand- 
ard of time, which answers to a constant (or approximately 
constant) time-experience of ourselves on different occa- 
sions and to a similar time-experience for ourselves and for 
others. Such a standard of reference seems to be found in 
movement, and, more particularly, visible movement, e.g., 
of the sun, of the clock. 

The representation of the future is, of course, still less 

fall of attention and of the concomitant sensations (cf. p. 90). For a fuller 
account of the variations in our subjective estimate of time or duration, see 
my volume, Illusions, chap. x. p. 239 ff.. and chap. xi. p. 302 ff. 



212 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

complete than that of the past. Here we have not even 
that fragment of a definite series of events which we have 
in the case of recalling a portion of our past life. Our 
future is only susceptible of a dim forecast. Yet, even 
here, the formation of the common time-scheme just re- 
ferred to enables us to move forward in imagination 
through a succession of periods in which imperfectly rep- 
resented changes of age, surroundings, occupation, and so 
forth, with the correlative changes of feeling, form the 
serial content. 

Remembering Events. The development of the 
temporal scheme here briefly described renders possible 
the process of Remembering in the complete sense of this 
word, viz., a definite recalling of a particular event of the 
past. In this case the memory-image is definitely referred 
to a particular portion of the past, and localised or placed 
in its proper temporal settings. Thus we remember an ex- 
amination, a tour abroad, when we localise the occurrence, 
say, in a particular month of a particular year, and connect 
it with what preceded and what followed it. 

It is this definite reference, too, to the time-order of the 
past which underlies the sense of personal continuity, or, as 
it is generally called, 'personal identity.' It is only in the 
measure in which we can mentally run over a succession of 
prominent past experiences as framed in the time-scheme 
that we acquire a clear idea of a continuous flow of con- 
sciousness, or of a mental life. 

Much of our so-called remembering falls far short of a 
precise localising of events. We have a vague sense of 
pastness and that is all. This condition of incomplete or 
fragmentary reproduction is illustrated in the processes of 
Recognition already dealt with. To recognise an object, a 
name, is to have along with a given percept or image a 
sense of its representing something which has gone before. 
It is to be added that where a past presentation has oc- 
curred again and again and with different concomitants the 
recurrence of it fails to recall any particular date and 
group of experiences, just because the several suggestive 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 213 

tendencies inhibit one another. In hearing a familiar word, 
in looking at a book we often use, we recognise, that is, have 
a vague sense of past acquaintance, but do not recall any 
particular previous occurrences with their distinctive tem- 
poral concomitants. 

Other Forms of Suggestion. 

We have now completed our account of the reproductive 
process so far as the Law of Contiguous Association is con- 
cerned. As pointed out in our general account of associa- 
tion, this refers mainly, if not exclusively, to the integration 
of presentative elements which fall together in the time- 
order of our experience. 

Suggestion of Similars. At the same time, all sug- 
gestion does not take the form of revival by links of con- 
tiguity. When, for example, a photograph calls up an 
image of the original person or locality, or when a word 
in French or Italian calls up the parent word in Latin, the 
succession is commonly said to follow, not the (external) 
order of time, but the (internal) order of likeness or simi- 
larity. And from the age of Aristotle downward the Laws 
of Association have, by the majority of writers, included a 
special Law of Similarity. We have now to examine into 
the nature of this process of suggestion, and to define its 
relation to the process of contiguous suggestion already 
dealt with. 

In the first place, then, we must distinguish this process 
of suggestion from that of automatic assimilation already 
considered. In order that there be the suggestion of one 
representation by another, they must, it is evident, be in a 
measure distinct. That is to say, the similarity in this case 
is incomplete. The portrait and the original, though simi- 
lar in certain features or aspects, are dissimilar in others. 
Hence we have in this case a succession of partly dissimilar 
representations, or a distinct process of revival of one rep- 
resentation by an antecedent one. It may be marked off 
from Automatic (z*. <?., coalescent) Assimilation as a process 
of Suggestive Assimilation. 



214 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



This suggestion of a representation by its similar is im- 
mediate, and does not depend on a clear consciousness of 
the similarity. In many cases we are reminded by one face, 
one locality, one work of art, of another, without being able 
at once to detect where the similarity lies. Where the con- 
sciousness of similarity grows distinct it is as a subsequent 
process. 

It is evident that we have here to do with a process ap- 
parently different from that of contiguous association. We 
have not, as in the last case, two psychical elements at- 
tached or bound together on the ground of their having 
been originally presented together, or having formed adja- 
cent elements in the tissue of our experience. The whole 
ground of the suggestive process is here the fact of simi- 
larity. The relation between reviver and revived would, 
accordingly, in this case, have to be symbolised thus : 

( B ( k 
D -^ S ; or thus : \ A -^ \ a, rather than thus : A ~* 'v> 

(C (/ b 

which form we found to be fitting in the case of contiguous 
cohesion. Hence the word association seems to be inap- 
propriate here. 

Nature of Assimilative Suggestion. Let us now 
inquire a little more closely into the mode of working of 
this " Attraction of Similars " as it has been called. To 
begin with, then, since the attractive force resides in the 
fact of similarity, we may expect that it will vary with the 
amount of the similarity, and this is what we find. Where 
two presentations are closely similar, as in the case of two 
voices very like in timbre, there the tendency to revival 
will be strong. A number of common features in two ob- 
jects is a known aid to assimilative revival. We identify a 
person after an interval of absence by a complex of simi- 
larities, as form, expressional movement, voice, and so 
forth. Speaking generally we may say that, according to 
the principle now dealt with, presentations tend to revive one 
another in the proportion in which likeness preponderates over 
difference. This will be aided, as in the case of contiguous 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



215 



reproduction, by the strength of the reviver and the readi- 
ness of the image (through depth, recency of impression, 
etc.) to recur. 

The attraction of similars exerts a marked influence on 
the flow of our ideas. The sights and sounds that meet us 
tend now to revive contiguous adjuncts, now to suggest 
similar sights and sounds in our past experience. Where 
we fail to detect the presence of a link of contiguity con- 
necting two successive representations, a thread of connex- 
ion may often be found in some point of likeness. This 
action of similarity, moreover, being unlimited by time and 
circumstances, has a wide scope. It serves to connect not 
only sensations of the same class, but even disparate sen- 
sations. In what has been called the " analogy of feeling," 
as when a certain effect of colour reminds us of an analo- 
gous effect of tone, we have an example of this far-reaching 
influence of similarity. 

Assimilative Integration. Although assimilative re- 
vival is not in itself a true process of association it gives 
rise to such. When a presentation KAM recalls another 
PAQ the immediate succession of the two in consciousness 
secures a certain amount of contiguous cohesion between 
them. We all know that after mentally bringing together, 
for example, two faces, and recognising their likeness, we 
tend to connect the two habitually. This effect of con- 
necting similars brought together in consciousness may be 
marked off as assimilative integration. 

Such assimilative integration plays a certain part in the 
acquisition of our concrete knowledge, and is a still more 
important factor in the building up of our thought-com- 
plexes, viz., general notions and judgments. The latter of 
these effects will have to be considered later on. A word 
or two may here be added on the former. 

When we say that learning is assimilation we mean that 
it takes place largely by help of assimilative suggestion. 
Thus, in learning the German word Vogel we are apt to 
recall fowl, and by thus attaching the new to the old 
acquisition by a link of likeness we greatly expedite the 



2i6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

process of retention. The new and strange fact becomes 
incorporated with familiar facts, and acquires something of 
the interest of these. Thus the hard repellent-looking for- 
eign work takes on a friendly mien when assimilated to 
some homely vocable ; the dry historical fact becomes vivid 
and striking when brought into analogy with some interest- 
ing fact of the present day, and so forth. Hence a firm in- 
tegration of the two ; and, as a result of this, a strong re- 
tention of the new fact. 

Relation of Suggestion by Similarity to Contigu- 
ous Suggestion. We have thus far marked off, as sharply 
as possible, suggestion by similarity from suggestion by 
contiguity ; and this on the ground already pointed out, 
that they answer to two perfectly distinct directions of the 
reproductive process. The latter, as we have seen, tends 
to a reinstatement of experience-wholes, or time-connected 
aggregates; in other words, to a reproduction along with 
each presentative element of its experimental context. 
The former, on the other hand, brings together elements 
of experience not necessarily connected in time at all, but 
lying, it may be, very remote in the time-order. Or, to ex- 
press the contrast in another way, we may say that associ- 
ative (contiguous) reproduction is externally conditioned, 
viz., by the time-proximity of the original presentations, 
whereas assimilative reproduction is internally conditioned 
by the psychological (or psycho-physical relations of the 
presentations. 

At the same time, it follows from what was said in a 
previous chapter on the unity of the elaborative process as 
a whole, that the two modes of reproduction are mutually 
implicated. All contiguous suggestion, as we there saw, 
begins with a process of automatic assimilation. When the 
sight of a flower recalls an odour, a particular locality, or 
a romantic experience, it is because this visual presentation 
is assimilated to one or more like previous ones. On the 
other hand, as already pointed out, similarity is never the 
only reviving circumstance. When, for example, one face 
recalls another similar one, the revival is assimilative only 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



217 



so far as certain like or common features of the two objects 
are concerned. All that is revived beyond this, the unlike 
concomitants of expression, figure, dress, habitation, and so 
forth, is the work of contiguity. 

The symbolic representation of the assimilative element in contiguous 
reproduction was given above (p. 1 16). The co-operation of contiguous 
suggestion in what is commonly called the revival of similars may be sym- 
bolised thus : 

f 



__ etc. 

where the group of capitals stands for the reviving presentation-complex, 
and that of the small letters for the revived images. Here the assimilative 
part of the process is expressed by the letters X — x ;* while the other and 
contiguous part of the reproduction, or associative revival proper, is indi- 
cated by the smaller letters and their connecting lines. 

Yet, while both compounded of the same elements, viz., assimilative and 
associative revival proper, the two operations commonly described as sug- 
gestion by contiguity and by similarity are, in general, readily distinguish- 
able. In what is called contiguous suggestion the assimilative step in the 
process, being automatic and instantaneous, is slurred over and lost sight of, 
the associative revival of concomitant elements being the striking part of 
the process. These concomitants, moreover, are kept distinct from the re- 
viving presentation. On the other hand, in assimilative suggestion, the 
process of assimilation, with its concomitant, consciousness of similarity, is 
the conspicuous part of the whole operation. The difference between the 
two processes may be symbolised thus : — 

Contiguous A ->(<?) Assimilative ( C \m 

Suggestion, ir, etc. Suggestion, ^ j) I k. 

Suggestion by Contrast. In addition to that of 
similarity another principle of suggestion known as con- 
trast is commonly laid down. By this is meant that one im- 
pression or presentation tends to call up the image of its 
opposite or contrast. Thus it is said that black suggests 
white, poverty makes us think of wealth, a flat country re- 
minds us of a mountainous one, and so forth. 

It is, however, extremely doubtful whether contrast as 

* To meet the case of the imperfect similarity of X and x, it would be 
necessary to use letters not regarded as identical, say B and the Greek 0. 



2i8 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

such constitutes a bond of attraction among representa- 
tions. On the contrary, it would rather appear that con- 
trast between two representations, merely as such, leads to 
an opposition and a mutual hindrance. In the play of con- 
flicting suggestive tendencies, to be spoken of presently, it 
will be found that presentations tend to exclude the simul- 
taneous rise of all unlike, and therefore all contrasting 
presentations. 

(a) In the first place, suggestion by contrast seems to 
owe its force mainly to the circumstance that all knowledge 
of things begins with discrimination, with a noting of broad 
differences or contrasts, such as bitter and sweet, and more 
particularly those involved in such correlative pairs as rich 
and poor, heavy and light, tall and short. Not only does 
the mother or teacher begin to instruct the child by point- 
ing out these contrasts to him, he spontaneously brings one 
thing into contrast with another, or views it in that rela- 
tion, as when he says, ' This is a hot plate, this is not a 
cold plate.' This initial bringing together of contrasting 
presentations for purposes of cognition is aided by the 
common forms of language which serve for a like reason to 
connect opposite qualities. In this way contrasting ideas 
do, undoubtedly, become associated, but only as the result 
of conjoint presentation, i. e., contiguous association. 

(b) In the second place, similarity appears to play a sub- 
ordinate part in suggestion by contrast. When, for exam- 
ple, a sour taste makes us think of a sweet one, it is evident 
that the two impressions are so far alike that they constitute 
members of the same class* 

(c) This intellectual association of contrasting presenta- 
tions and ideas is further aided by a special feeling of interest 
in the relation. To see a bright and a dark colour, or a large 
and a small object, in juxtaposition is, as we have seen, im- 
pressive, and serves to excite attention to the two, and so 

* Suggestion by contrast is sometimes based on similarity as its main 
ground : but this appears to be an exaggeration. As extremes within the 
same class contrasting sensations present more of dissimilarity than of simi- 
larity. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 



219 



to connect them by a contiguous bond. This interest of 
contrast is still more conspicuous in the case of all those 
presentations and representations which are strongly col- 
oured by a concomitant of feeling, e.g., wealth and poverty, 
sickness and health, and so forth. Hence, further, the 
large use of contrast in poetry and in art generally. 

It follows from our analysis that contrast plays a sub- 
ordinate part in retention and reproduction. Its chief 
function in connexion with these processes is to intensify 
attention to certain juxtapositions of presentative elements, 
and so to secure a firmer hold on these. 

The three modes of suggestion just dealt with, Contiguity, Similarity, 
and Contrast, were distinguished by Aristotle. In modern times the tend- 
ency has been to simplify these principles. Thus, Contrast is now gener- 
ally admitted not to be an elementary law of suggestion or ' association.' 
Further, we find that from the time of Hartley, the founder of the modern 
English doctrine of association, there has been a disposition to relegate simi- 
larity to a secondary place. This was attempted in a forced way by Jas. Mill, 
who held that we ' associate ' like things because we are accustomed to see 
them together. More recently in England and in Germany we see a tend- 
ency to strike out suggestion by similarity altogether. According to this 
view all similarity is partial identity. When a portrait recalls the original 
it is because certain ingredients in the earlier experience are already pres- 
ent in the later. Hence all that suggestion does is to revive the former 
concomitants of this common element. On the other hand, Herbert 
Spencer reverses the process and seeks to resolve contiguity into similarity 
by regarding experiences taking place at the same time as similar under 
their temporal aspect. It may be added that Hamilton and others, while 
admitting both contiguity and similarity, view them as constantly co-oper- 
ating, and so bring the whole process of suggestion under one principle 
viz., redintegration, i. e., reinstatement of wholes.* 

Simple and Complex Suggestion. So far we have 
been confining ourselves in the main to the process of sug- 
gestion viewed as a simple operation. That is to say, we 
have supposed that a particular presentation A has a con- 
nexion with only one representation, say a or b, and tends 

* For the view that all suggestion is due to contiguity the reader may 
consult W. James, Psychology, p. 268 ff. H. Spencer's view is set forth in 
his Principles of Psychology, vol. i. pt. ii. chap. vii. Hamilton's Law of 
Redintegration is expounded in his Lectures on Metaphysics, xxxi. 



220 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

consequently to suggest this last exclusively. But a little 
consideration will show us that this is, strictly speaking, 
never the case. If we confine ourselves to the process of 
association proper, viz., contiguous integration, we see that 
a presentative element is never given with only one con- 
comitant element. Every impression that reaches us has 
contiguous relations to other impressions of the time (si- 
multaneous, antecedent, and consequent), including all the 
organic sensations, feelings, and other states of the mo- 
ment. Since, moreover, the same (/. <?., approximately in- 
distinguishable) presentations recur at different times and 
with different concomitants the variety and range of asso- 
ciation and suggestive tendency are still more enlarged. 
The odour of a violet, the sound of a friend's voice, a par- 
ticular word in common use, come in this way to enter 
as a common factor into a large variety of connected 
wholes. 

The psycho-physical process of associative integration 
is here analogous to the weaving of an intricate net-work, 
in which each element forms a knot connected by a variety 
of threads with other similar knots. Following the com- 
mon physiological hypothesis, we may suppose, indeed, that 
the several clusters of central nervous elements answering 
to different presentations do in this way become mutually 
attached by numerous radiating fibrous connexions. 

If, now, to this varied play of contiguous association 
we add the suggestive tendencies of similarity, we shall 
materially increase the complexity of the process. A given 
presentation, say a particular pose or voice-inflexion in an 
actor, may thus connect itself not only with many separate 
concomitants, locality, temporal circumstances, etc., but 
also with a number of like presentations, viz., previous per- 
ceptions of a similar pose and tone in the same or in other 
actors. And through these last, moreover, new and mani- 
fold directions of contiguous association will be opened up 
corresponding to the particular concomitants of each of 
these previous presentations. 

This fact of the complexity of the suggestive process 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 2 2I 

may be viewed under two distinct aspects, or in respect of 
two dissimilar effects. 

Divergent Suggestion. The first and most obvious 
result of this intricate reticular arrangement of our pre- 
sentative elements is that no presentation is suggestive in 
one direction only. In other words, all presentations exert 
a tendency to a multiform or divergent mode of suggestion. 
Thus, the sight of a familiar room, or the sound of a famil- 
iar name, tends to call up a number of images. Since these 
cannot all be revived together, there results a conflict of 
suggestive tendencies. 

If, now, in this conflict one suggestive tendency greatly 
predominates over the others in strength the conflict is at 
once resolved : the more potent suggestive tendency inhibits the 
rival tendencies. Thus, in learning the meaning of a word, 
as ' head,' a child comes, after sufficient repetition, to recall 
in connexion with it only the constant part of the associ- 
ated idea, viz., the general notion or concept, and no longer 
the variable accidental accompaniments, answering to par- 
ticular varieties of form, as the human head, the bird's 
head, etc. 

Convergent Suggestion. This brings us to the sec- 
ond effect of the complexity here dealt with. The process 
of reproduction is never, strictly speaking, brought about 
by a single presentative element. As pointed out above, 
our presentations are complex. Thus, the presence of a 
person announces itself by a highly complex group of visual 
and auditory impressions, any one of which may assist in 
reproducing some presentation associated with the person. 
All reinstatement of a past presentation is the cumulative 
effect of a number of such co-operant suggestive forces. 
This co-operation of suggestive tendencies in reinstating a 
particular presentation may be described as Convergent 
Suggestion. 

The process of convergent suggestion assumes a pecul- 
iar form in the case of the composite trains already spoken 
of. When a child learns to repeat a poem from memory 
we see a number of co-operant tendencies at work. Thus, 



222 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a given word-sound W 1 tends to revive the proximate mem- 
ber of the sound- series W 2 . At the same time, it will revive 
the correlative idea I 1 , and this last will co-operate as a 
new suggestive factor, tending to revive the connected idea 
I 2 . In this way, as we know, a child recalls the next word, 
now by the sound-cohesion, now by the help of the ideal 
connexion as well. Not only so, in recalling a series of 
such ideo-verbal complexes, the revival of a particular 
member of the train is not the mere result of the suggest- 
ive force of its immediate predecessor, but is a resultant of 
the sum of suggestive tendencies of the whole string of preceding 
words. Only in this way can we account for the fact that 
a poem or tune which has phrases common to it and other 
poems or tunes reproduces itself without confusion with 
the other trains. In like manner, assimilative suggestion is 
commonly a complex process. In identifying a person, for 
example, after a long interval, the revival of the image is a 
process occupying an appreciable time, and illustrating a like 
cumulative operation of suggestive stimuli, as a particular 
movement of the features, tone of the voice, and so forth. 

Finally, it is to be noted that the two processes of as- 
similative and contiguous suggestion may combine in effect- 
ing the revival of an image or image-complex. As pointed 
out before, contiguous suggestion always includes an as- 
similative factor ; and as soon as this latter element grows 
distinct in consciousness we have a recognisable case of 
co-operant similarity and contiguity. This is exemplified 
in that common form of operation called variously the rec- 
ognition, the classification, or, by Herbart and his followers, 
the Apperception of an object. Thus, in recognising a per- 
son or a place after a considerable interval, the process fre- 
quently commences with a revival by assimilative sugges- 
tion of a vague typical outline of the original, which outline 
gets filled in with details gradually or suddenly by con- 
tiguous suggestion. The same co-operation is still more 
apparent in constructive reproductions, as they may be 
called, as when a savant completes the idea of an animal 
from an observation of a part of its skeleton. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



223 



Besides these combinations of assimilation and contigu- 
ous suggestion which constitute connected intellectual pro- 
cesses, there are others of a looser and a more accidental 
kind. Thus, in recalling a person's name, contiguous sug- 
gestion is frequently aided by the assimilative force of 
another like name which we happen to be thinking of at 
the moment. Still more plainly is this fortuitous co-oper- 
ation illustrated in the common case in which a speaker or 
a writer gets his current of ideas directed to a particular 
simile by the aid of the contiguous promptings of the lo- 
cality and surroundings of the moment. The similes of 
Wordsworth, hardly less than his descriptions, are a key to 
the kind of locality in which he lived. 

Reproduction as a Resultant of a Sum of Tend- 
encies. If, now, we combine what has been said respect- 
ing the frequent co-operation of a number of suggestive 
stimuli with what was said above on the action of the vary- 
ing strength of the psycho-physical tendencies to revival, 
according to the energy of the original impression or series 
of impressions, and to recency of impression, we shall see 
that the actual working of the reproductive mechanism is 
exceedingly complex, and widely variable from moment to 
moment. Every reproduction of an image or image-group 
is a resultant of a system of psycho-physical forces, partly 
stimulatory, and partly inhibitory, acting at the moment. 

It follows that our ideational successions betray a high 
degree of variability from moment to moment. Thus, as 
every traveller knows, we are far less prepared to recall a 
French or German word when we are called on to give it 
at home, than we are after spending a week or two in the 
country where the language is spoken. In the latter case 
the tendency to revival has been strengthened by the whole 
experience of hearing and speaking other words bound up 
with this one in a particular associative group or system. 

Active Factor in Reproduction : Recollection. We 
have thus far considered the process of reproduction merely 
as a passive and mechanical one. That is to say, we have 
supposed that the several suggestive tendencies do their 



224 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



work without any conscious active co-operation on our 
part. And this purely automatic reinstatement of images 
does undoubtedly occur. We all know what it is to have 
an idea revived suddenly and forcibly without our actively 
contributing to the result. The rapid and vivid reinstate- 
ments effected by locality illustrate such passive reproduc- 
tion. In our idle moments, in dreamy contemplation of 
natural objects, and in twilight reverie, we seem to be 
merely the sport of suggestive forces, our thoughts being 
led hither and thither without any exertion of our own. 

Such a purely passive process of reproduction is, how- 
ever, comparatively rare. In most cases an effort of atten- 
tion enters into the stage of reproduction, as into the stage 
of acquisition. This actively controlled process of repro- 
duction is best marked off as Recollection. We have now 
to inquire into the nature of the process as thus further 
complicated. Without attempting as yet to account for the 
action of attention itself as the result of willing or volition, 
we may inquire into the way in which attention interferes 
with and modifies the mechanical processes of reproduction 
as just considered. 

To begin with, then, the action of attention does not 
effect a reinstatement of an image independently of the 
forces of suggestion. All that it can do is to modify this 
action in various ways, and to aid in the realisation of cer- 
tain of these tendencies rather than of others. 

(a) Fixation of Ideas. The first thing possible here 
is the direction of attention to a representation partially 
revived, or sub-consciously present. In many cases we half 
recover an image, e.g., of a face, by help of certain suggest- 
ive forces. Here, when special interest is excited, we may 
actively supplement the work of revival by a direction of 
the attention to the sub-conscious image ; that is to say, 
attention to partly developed images secures their full develop- 
ment. 

This furthering of the rise of an idea commonly has for its physiologi- 
cal concomitant, in addition to the muscular and other factors spoken of 
above, the innervation of the articulatory organ. As pointed out before, 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



225 



our ideas are, in the large majority of cases, called up in connexion with 
words. These words, moreover, have a marked muscular factor. To 
imagine a word is to have it " on our tongue," i. e,, to have the articulatory 
apparatus partially excited as in actually uttering it. Vivid attention to 
ideas appears to be aided by a strengthening of this muscular element. 

This co-operation of attention in reproduction is nearly 
always present in some degree. Even in comparatively 
passive processes of revival certain ideas attain to full dis- 
tinctness rather than others because of the feeling of inter- 
est which they awaken. The sub-conscious representation 
is attended with a faint pulsation of feeling, and this feeling 
calls forth, a reactive process, though it may be so rapid as 
to escape observation. This co-operation of interest or 
feeling is illustrated in recalling a series of past expe- 
riences, a beautiful poem, etc. 

(b) Control of Suggestive Forces. In the second 
place, by holding certain presentative and representative 
elements before the mind and excluding others, attention 
helps to determine the particular directions of revival. Thus, by 
an effort of attention we may keep before us the several 
reviving factors in convergent suggestion, and so mate- 
rially further the operation. On the other hand, we may, 
by the inhibitory action of attention, work against all di- 
vergent suggestion, or, as it has been called in this connex- 
ion, ' Obstructive Association,' and so exclude all irrelevant 
suggestions. In this way we can actively and voluntarily 
regulate the whole process of reproduction, and secure the 
realisation of a -particular result. 

All such regulation of the reproductive process obviously presupposes 
that we are able to recognise the right, that is, the required idea when it 
recurs. This is only a peculiar case of that recognition of an image as an- 
swering to a past experience which enters into all reproduction. What is 
peculiar to this case is that since other parts of the image-group to which 
the required image belongs are already present, the recognition takes on 
the form of an awareness of fitness or of pertinence. Thus when I recall 
a long-sought name of a place or a person I know it is the right name — 
first, because I recognise it as a familiar name ; and, secondly, because I 
discern that it belongs to the object represented. It may be added that in 
thus seeking after images we have a previous vague knowledge of what 
15 



226 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

we want, and where (that is, in connexion with what other images) we are 
to look for it ; so that when it emerges into clear consciousness we are able 
to say : ' That is what I was trying to think of.' 



This controlling or steadying action of attention is seen 
in all processes of reproduction that we are in the habit of 
calling recollections. Thus it takes place in the recalling 
of something learnt by heart, as a poem. Here the will 
must steady the operation by an effort of attention, or, 
owing to the divergent suggestions of the several words, 
the mind will go off the track, and confuse one line or one 
verse with another in the same or in other poems. 

Still more plainly is this regulative control seen in the 
common experience of ' trying to remember ' something, as 
a person's name, a process well described by Aristotle by 
the metaphor of hunting for a forgotten fact (6rjpe.v<Ti<i). 
Here we note a severer effort of concentration involving a 
more prolonged fixation of the reviving elements. The 
selective and the inhibitory (or exclusive) function become 
more conspicuous in this case, assuming the form of a seek- 
ing out and fixating all relevant ideas likely to aid in the 
process, such as the image of the person, that of some other 
name known to be like, or that of the initial sound of the 
name, and, on the other hand, of a resolute and rapid re- 
pression (by withdrawal of the attention) of all divergent 
or obstructive suggestion. 

This control of the reproductive processes assumes a 
yet higher form in that lengthy and far-reaching operation 
by which we overhaul, so to speak, the stores of memory 
in search of an idea or group of ideas of a particular kind 
or type. This is illustrated in such common experiences as 
trying to find a second case analogous to a present one, to 
recall some illustration of a principle, and so forth. It is 
carried to its highest perfection in the search of the poet 
for a simile, and of the scientific man for an illustrative 
idea. Such a ready command of images by voluntary atten- 
tion presupposes that there has been previously an orderly 
arrangement of the psychical material, that when new ac- 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



227 



quisitions were made these were linked on (by contiguity 
and similarity) to old acquisitions. It is only when there 
has been the full co-operation of attention in this earlier 
or acquisitive stage that there will be a ready command of 
the materials so gained in the later stage of reproduction. 

Perfect and Imperfect Recollection. Our ability at 
any given time to recall the impressions of the past varies 
indefinitely from total inability up to the point at which all 
sense of effort vanishes and the reproduction is certain and 
instantaneous. At one extreme we have, apparently at 
least, total forgetfulness or obliviscence ; at the other, per- 
fect recollection ; while, as an intermediate condition, we 
have partial, that is, temporary forgetfulness of greater or 
less persistence. 

Our perfect recollections at any time embrace but a 
very few of our acquisitions. The conditions of such 
facile recall are too complex to allow of its realisation in 
the large majority of cases. A sufficiency of interest and 
of repetition, together with firm association with what is 
near at hand and so supplies a starting-point in the process 
of recovery, are all necessary to this result. What we can 
recollect instantly, and without conscious effort, is either 
included in, or firmly attached to, our permanent surround- 
ings, dominant interests, and habitual pursuits. Thus we 
can at any time recall without effort the scenery of our 
home, or place of business, the sound of a friend's voice, 
the knowledge we habitually revert to and apply in our 
daily actions, our profession, and our amusements. 

Next to this perfect recollection comes that which in- 
volves a greater effort, and is less uniform and certain. 
This applies to a good many of our acquisitions which have 
been firmly built up at the outset, but to which we have of 
late had little occasion to go back. Our knowledge of even 
the more striking events of the remote past, much of the 
book knowledge acquired at school and not turned to prac- 
tical account in later life, as that of the classics, is an illus- 
tration of such imperfect recollection. These acquisitions 
cannot be recalled at once, but their revival requires a pro- 



228 • OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

longed process of suggestion, in which a number of forces 
have to co-operate. 

Forgetfulness. The failure of recollection leads on 
to the subject of forgetfulness or obliviscence. By this is 
meant the undoing of the acquisitive or retentive process. 
Forgetfulness implies as its correlative that an impression 
or group of impressions has been acquired and retained at 
least for a short time. 

The forgetting or casting off of a large part of our 
temporary acquisitions is a fact of great psychological im- 
portance. We appear to have the power by intense con- 
centration for short periods of building up psycho-physical 
arrangements which afterwards, when the effort is relaxed, 
become disintegrated of themselves. The utility of this 
power is obvious. If we could not dismiss a " got-up " 
subject of examination, of professional interest, and so 
forth, when it is done with, our minds would be encum- 
bered, and our brain-powers far more narrowly limited 
than they now are. Cramming, as has been pointed out 
by Jevons and others, has thus a value of its own, that is 
to say, so far as the subjects to be temporarily ' got up ' are use- 
less for atty subsequent purpose. 

Leaving such temporary retentions and coming to more 
permanent acquisitions, we find that forgetfulness manifests 
itself in close connexion with the processes of active repro- 
duction considered above. Since we only know that an 
impression is retained by the fact or the possibility of its 
revival, and since the full effect of the forces of revival is 
only secured when we actively assist in the process, we nat- 
urally come to make recollection the test of retention. In 
other words, that is retained which we can recollect : that 
which we cannot recollect when we try to do so is regarded 
as forgotten or lost. 

Forgetfulness, as thus understood, appears in two forms 
Of these the first is the comparatively unimportant form 
of partial or temporary forgetfulness, and the second the 
more serious form of seemingly complete or permanent 
obliviscence 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



229 



Temporary forgetfulness is illustrated in the case of 
disused school-lore. We may still retain a part of this 
knowledge, only the recalling of it requires the co-opera- 
tion of certain reinstating conditions, e.g., in the case of a 
modern language, a day or two's sojourn in the country 
where this is spoken. 

The stage of complete obliviscence is supposed to be 
reached when no effort of will, and no available aid from 
suggestive forces, succeed in effecting the reproduction. 
In order, however, to determine that a fact is thus irrecov- 
erably forgotten, we ought first to have tried the maximum 
force of the reproductive agencies, and this is often out of 
our power. The addition of the stimuli of locality, sound 
of voice, and so forth, might serve to recall images of 
persons which are now apparently irrecoverable. The re- 
markable revival of remote and seemingly lost impres- 
sions in dreams and in certain forms of brain-derange- 
ment suggest that much which we suppose to be forgotten 
might, under the most favourable conjunction of conditions, be 
recovered. 

Memory and its Varieties. The foregoing account 
of the processes of reproduction will help us to understand 
what is popularly called the power or ' faculty ' of memory. 
By this term is commonly meant the retention of a stock 
of acquisitions and the ability to recall these as they are 
wanted. In its higher form of a distinct recalling of pres- 
entations in their time-order (memory of events) it in- 
volves, as we have seen, a careful association of these with 
their temporal concomitants. 

The reasons for marking off this department of psychi- 
cal processes by a special name are obvious. As has been 
stated, retentiveness is an ultimate inexplicable psycho- 
physical function. And though, as has been pointed out, 
this function appears at all stages of development, and 
plays a considerable part in the so-called ' presentations ' of 
sense, it only reaches its full expression in the processes of 
reproduction or representative imagination. The great 
practical importance, moreover, of the power when thus 



230 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

developed sufficiently accounts for the fact of our distin- 
guishing it by a particular name. 

Memory and Memories. While thus employing the 
current term to mark off this sphere of reproductive imagi- 
nation, we must not be misled into thinking that memory, 
even when thus limited, is a single faculty. The fact that 
memory has an organic base, and is, indeed, at once a 
physiological and a psychical phenomenon, is sufficiently 
shown in the known variations of reproductive power. 
Common observation tells us that the memory of one 
class of presentative elements, as tones, is one thing, that 
of another class, as colours, another. Speaking generally, 
and disregarding individual differences, we may say that 
the higher the sense in point of discriminative refinement 
the better, i. e., the more distinct and complete the corre- 
sponding process of reproduction. Thus of all presenta- 
tions visual percepts are recalled the best ; then come 
sounds, touches, tastes, and smells. Since, moreover, the 
muscular sense is characterised by a high degree of refine- 
ment, the retention of motor presentations, as seen in the 
recalling of articulatory movements, is in general relatively 
good. 

The same independence of tone-memory, colour-mem- 
ory, etc., is amply illustrated by individual differences of 
reproductive power. A boy may have an excellent (natu- 
ral) memory for one particular class of sensations, say col- 
ours or articulate sounds, and yet fall below the average 
in respect of other impressions. This relative independ- 
ence of retention for different groups of sensations has 
been still further shown by the facts of disease, which, by 
affecting particular regions of the brain, interferes with 
the reproduction of the correlated groups of impression. 
In like manner some people have a specially good memory 
for languages, for places, and so forth. Linnaeus, the great 
botanist, though he could retain elaborate nomenclatures, 
is said to have been incapable of learning languages. 
These differences depend on two chief factors : (1) special 
sense-discrimination to start with, and (2) special interest 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION: MEMORY. 



231 



and habits of attention leading to greater depth of impres- 
sion and better association in the case of particular groups 
of presentations. 

It follows from the above that the distinction commonly 
drawn between General and Special memory is not an ab- 
solute one. When we speak of a person having a good 
general memory we mean that the general or average level of 
his various classes of retentions is high. Such a good average 
retention has for its nervous correlative a high degree of 
structural perfection of the brain-centres generally, whereas 
what is marked off as special memory, e. g., for colours or 
forms, implies a special development of certain of these 
central structures. It may be added that general memory, 
as illustrated in the case of men like Scaliger, Pascal and 
Macaulay, turns largely on a high degree of verbal acquisi- 
tiveness. 

Course of Development of Memory. The depend- 
ence of conscious memory on its organic base is clearly 
seen in the rise and fall of the power of retention concomi- 
tantly with the growth and decay of the brain. A word or 
two on this parallel movement may well complete our ac- 
count of the reproductive process. 

We set out with the hypothesis that all psychical acqui- 
sition (other than momentary and evanescent retentions) 
involves the building up of new central arrangements, that 
is to say, the further differentiation of elements and weav- 
ing of connecting bonds. The first thing to note is that 
some time is required before the process of central evolu- 
tion is carried sufficiently far for stable and lasting reten- 
tion. As we all know, few persons retain in after-life any 
impressions of the events of the first three years. A possi- 
ble explanation of this fact may be found in the circum- 
stance that the nerve-centres have not as yet become suffi- 
ciently organised to supply a basis of permanent psychical 
integration. Impressions remain as yet detached, and are 
not taken up into that larger and more complex unity which 
we call our experience, or our history. 

When this stage is reached we observe a rapid develop- 



232 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ment of the retentive power. It is not uncommon to meet 
in autobiographies with minute recollections of events oc- 
curring in the fourth year. We see the same rapid growth 
of retentive power at this point in the facility with which 
most children from four onwards are able to memorise 
verbal material, verses of poetry, and the like. Judging 
by this criterion we may say with Dr. Bain that facility in 
storing up new acquisitions reaches its maximum about 
the period from the twelfth to the fourteenth year. At 
this particular stage, then, we may suppose that the brain- 
substance is most plastic or modifiable, that new develop- 
ments of central nervous structure take place most readily. 

Later on, no doubt, the retentive power seems to con- 
tinue unabated, and even to increase ; but here the phe- 
nomenon is probably a different one. A man of twenty or 
even thirty will learn many things, e. g., languages, better 
than the boy of fourteen, not because his brain is more 
plastic or disposed to take on new structural and functional 
modifications, but because the stock of acquisitions already 
hoarded greatly diminishes the labour of further retention. 
That is to say, since he has a larger store of ideal nuclei, 
about which he can group, or to which he can assimilate 
fresh facts, his so-called new acquisitions contain less and 
less of the really new or unlearned. This economising of 
work in the acquisitive process, due to the diminution in the 
amount of new matter to be assimilated, is aided by certain 
habits to be touched on presently, which are the result of a 
careful methodical regulation of the memory. 

The decline of memory, with the advance of years, illlus- 
trates the same close connexion with brain-power. Loss 
of cerebral vigour shows itself first of all in a failure of 
memory. More particularly the learning of new things 
grows difficult, so that the names of new acquaintances, 
and so forth, are not firmly held. On the other hand, as 
already pointed out, the superior tenacity of early years 
now reveals itself afresh in a revival of seemingly forgot- 
ten experiences of childhood and adolescence. Finally, in 
the gradual senile loss of memory we see traversed a simi- 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 



233 



lar course to that gone through in the case of the dissolu- 
tion of memory by disease. Those retentions disappear 
first which have been acquired latest, which represent 
fewest repetitions, and so are least deeply organised in the 
brain-structures, e. g., proper as contrasted with common 
nouns, while those disappear last which correspond to what 
was learnt first of all, has most frequently been made use 
of, and so become most deeply organised. 

The Culture of the Memory. Much has been written 
respecting the improvement or culture of the memory. 
This has been due in part to an exaggerated idea of its in- 
tellectual importance. The power of ' carrying ' is not neces- 
sarily the power of grasping or understanding. We know, 
too, that while many men of great intellect have been noted 
for their good memory, others, as Montaigne, have com- 
plained of the feebleness of their retentive power.* This 
branch of mental culture may be said to aim at securing 
three constituents of a good memory, viz. : (1) readiness in 
acquisition as measured by the smallness of the number of 
repetitions necessary, (2) tenacity or permanence of reten- 
tion as measured by the interval during which an impres- 
sion has been retained, and (3) facility or promptness to- 
gether with completeness or distinctness of reproduction. 

The development of memory, both generally and in par- 
ticular directions, is in every case limited by certain con- 
genital organic conditions. The individual has an impassa- 
ble limit set to his acquisitions in the primordial quality or 
degree of organisation of his central nerve-structures. At 
the same time, exercise, attention, and the carrying out of 
certain methodical habits, greatly assist in those psycho- 
physical processes which we call the growth of memory. It 
is only when these factors are present that the full func- 
tional activity of the brain as a retentive organ is realised. 

The foundation of all memory-culture is careful ob- 
servation. What we note closely we remember distinctly. 

* Hamilton gives a number of examples of men celebrated at once for 
their high intelligence and their capacious memory, Lectures on Metaphys- 
ics, ii. p. 224 ff. 



234 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



The exercises that enter into memory-culture, e. g., learn- 
ing by heart, obviously include a patient prolonged concen- 
tration on the material to be learnt. The closer the con- 
centration, and the more persistent the repetition, the more 
firmly will the several features of the material be fixed in 
the mind. 

Next to concentration and methodical repetition comes 
the work of orderly connexion or arrangement. By this is 
meant a careful consideration of the facts to be learnt in 
their relations one to another, and also in their relations to 
previously known facts. Such arrangement when properly 
carried out involves much judgment or judicious selection. 
The art of learning readily and lastingly turns not a little 
on skill in discriminating the important from the unimpor- 
tant, in selecting central or main points about which to 
facts or details, so that each becomes firmly conjoined with 
group subordinate matter. To discern where to concentrate, 
and what to overlook, so as not to burden the mind with use- 
less lumber, is one important secret of a good memory. 

Art of Mnemonics. In connexion with the improve- 
ment of the memory, reference may be made to those sys- 
tems by which it has been hoped to reduce memory-work 
to an affair of simple rule. Such systems, variously known 
as artificial memory, systems of mnemonics and memoria 
technica, have as their special object to facilitate the acqui- 
sition of verbal and similar matter, such as historical dates.* 

It follows from what has just been said that the im- 
provement of the memory, so far as this is possible, must 
proceed by a careful regulation of the acquisitive, and, as 
supplementary to this, of the reproductive process, through 
concentration of the attention. This concentration effects 
its object by means of the psycho-physical process of asso- 
ciation and suggestion already explained. More particu- 
larly it proceeds by introducing an orderly arrangement of 



* It is customary to distinguish three modes or methods of exercising 
the memory, (i) The mechanical method by attention and repetition, (2) 
the judicious method by due selection and arrangement, and (3) the ingen- 
ious method by the artifices of technical memory. 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 235 

other and related facts, and more particularly with facts 
lying nearer to us as recurrent elements of our sense-ex- 
perience, and as matters of strong personal interest, and 
consequently fitted to be efficient suggestors. 

The ancient and modern systems of mnemonics aim at 
forming artificial connexions between different portions of 
the matter to be learnt. Thus, in the systems of the Roman 
rhetoricians, the various heads of the discourse to be 
learned by their pupils were to be associated quite arbi- 
trarily with the several local divisions of a building, and so 
forth. So, in modern systems, the remembering of lists of 
irregular verbs, of particular series of digits in historical 
dates, etc., is facilitated by binding together the several 
constituents, as in giving a metrical form to the words and 
so calling in the aid of similarity of sound and the interest 
of rhythm, or in fancifully investing a disconnected series 
of numbers or letters with the semblance of regularity and 
connexion. All such devices owe their value to the princi- 
ples of association and suggestion expounded above, and 
there is little doubt that they serve a very useful subordi- 
nate purpose in the processes of learning. At the same time, 
owing to the great diversities among individuals, in respect 
not only of the classes of sensation best recalled, but also 
of the modes of suggestion that prove most serviceable, 
these rules cannot be said to have more than a relative and 
limited validity. 

These individual differences become important in considering the value 
of that scheme of topical or geometrical memory which is illustrated in the 
systems of Roman mnemonics already referred to. Whether a speaker 
would derive any aid from connecting his verbal material with the several 
local divisions of a visual scheme, such as the parts of a building, depends 
much on the strength of the visual or pictorial memory, and also on the 
readiness with which sounds enter into (heterogeneous) association with 
visualised forms. That they do so in the case of many individuals is 
proved, among other ways, by the curious inquiries of Mr. F. Galton into 
the way in which people represent (or visualise) numbers. He found that 
a considerable number of persons have habitually, from early childhood, 
pictured the numerals one, two, three, etc., in a kind of simple geometrical 
arrangement, e.g., as lying in a circle, or along a line changing its direction 
at certain points. 



236 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Educational Discipline of the Memory. The training, exercise, 
and discipline of children's memory, though they are not the whole of in- 
tellectual education, are certainly an important portion of it. " Tantum 
scimus quantum memoria tenemus." To know a thing implies the re- 
membrance of it.* Only when the memory is well stored with distinct 
images and series of such images, can the higher operations of the under- 
standing be carried out. As Kant observes, " The understanding has as 
its chief auxiliary the faculty of reproduction." f 

The systematic training of the memory should at first be carried out in 
close connexion with the methodical processes of observation. Thus the 
meaning of words should be taught by connecting them immediately with 
the real objects, that is to say, by simultaneously naming and pointing out 
an object. And as supplementary to this, the child should be exercised in 
recalling by means of words the impressions directly received from external 
objects. 

After a sufficient store of first-hand knowledge has been thus accumu- 
lated, the memory should be trained in the acquisition of knowledge about 
things at second hand, that is to say, through the medium of verbal (oral 
and literary) communication. The early period of school life is commonly 
said to be the most favourable one for the building up of such verbal ac- 
quisitions. It costs less effort in this early stage of development to learn 
the concrete facts of history, geography, or language, than it would cost at 
a later date. Hence it has been called the ' plastic period.' % 

The training ot the memory by the teacher falls into two parts : the 
exercising and strengthening of the pupil's power of acquisition ; the prac- 
tising him in recalling what he has learnt. 

(1) With respect to the first stage of the educational process it is to be 
remembered that to commit a thing to memory makes a severe demand on 
the brain energies, and should so far as possible be relegated to the hours 
of greatest vigour and freshness. The teacher should further aim at excit- 
ing a pleasurable state of mind at the time in connexion with the object of 
acquisition. Sometimes a painful experience may have to be resorted to. 
A boy who has made a ridiculous error in history, e. g., by confounding Sir 
Thomas More and the poet Tom Moore, and been well laughed at, is little 
likely afterwards to forget the difference. Again, the subject learnt must 
be put before the mind again and again, so that there be a sufficient deep- 
ening of the impression. The writing out of a lesson is a well-recognised 

* This is implied in the use of such forms as the Latin novi and the 
German Ich habe ihn kennen gelernt, 

f Ueber Pddagogik, p. 492 (Werke Edn. Hartenstein). The relation of 
a good memory to intellectual power as a whole is discussed by both Stew- 
art and Hamilton in the works referred to. 

\ Professor Bain regards the period of maximum plasticity as extend- 
ing from about the 6th to the 10th year. {Science of Education, p. 1S6.) 



REPRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION : MEMORY. 237 

aid in fixing in the mind a piece of new knowledge. And the child should 
be encouraged to dwell on the subject committed to memory, and to go 
back to it, so that the full force of repetition may be realised. Lastly, the 
teacher must be careful to point out the relations between one part and 
another of the subject-matter, and between this as a whole and previously 
acquired knowledge. In this way the binding forces of association will be 
brought into play. 

(2) The mere act of taking in new facts and truths is not enough. 
The teacher should aim at keeping fresh and clear in the pupil's mind 
what is learnt, or in other words, at rendering the memory quick and accu- 
rate in reproducing what has been acquired. This result can only be se- 
cured by renewed exercises in reproduction. Here again it is important to 
seize the right moment. To recollect is to concentrate the mind on itself, 
to ' reflect,' as we commonly say, and implies a yet higher effort of atten- 
tion than external observation. Further, the interest should be excited 
by suitable questioning which stirs curiosity and so rouses the learner to 
strenuous intellectual exertion. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

A very full and detailed account of the workings of contiguous associa- 
tion is given by Dr. Bain under the head, Law of Contiguity, The Senses 
and the Intellect, " Intellect," chap. i. ; and W. James, Principles of Psy- 
chology, vol. i. chap. xvi. Dr. Ward develops a somewhat original theory 
of reproduction in his article " Psychology " {Enc. Brit.). On the means 
of improving the memory the student may consult Dugald Stewart's Phi- 
losophy of the Human Mind, part i. ch. vi. With this may be compared 
Sir W. Hamilton's account of memory, Lectures on Metaphysics, especially 
lectures xxxi. and xxxii. . 

On the practical and educational side the reader will do well to consult 
Locke, Some Thoughts on Education, especially §176; Miss Edgeworth, 
Essays on Practical Education, vol. ii. chap. xxi. Among French works 
mention may be made of Mdme. Necker, L 'Education, livre vi. chap. vii. ; 
and of Compayre, Cours de Pddagogie, le£on vi. Among German works are 
Beneke (Erzieh. und Unterrichtslehre, vol. i. §§ 20-22), Waitz {Allgem. 
Padagogik, 2d part, 3d sect.), and Fauth, Das Gedachtniss. There are 
some good remarks on the cultivation of Memory in Kant's Essay, Ueber 
Padagogik. 



CHAPTER IX. 

PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 

Reproductive and Productive Imagination. Re- 
production involves, as we have seen, the picturing of ob- 
jects and events in what are called representative images, 
and is thus a form of imagination. In these reproductive 
processes, however, the images are supposed to be mere 
copies of past impressions. In reproductive imagination 
we retrace the actual forms and order of our presentative 
or sense-experience. But what is commonly known as im- 
agination implies more than this. When we imagine an 
unrealised event of the future, or a place which is described 
to us, we are going beyond our actual experience. The 
images of memory, are being in some way modified, trans- 
formed, and recombined. Hence this process is marked off 
as Productive or as Constructive Imagination. It is this 
productive process which is specially referred to by the 
term Imagination. 

While, however, we thus mark off (productive) imagination as a stage 
of psychological elaboration going beyond reproduction, it is easily seen 
that no hard and fast line of separation can be drawn between the two. 
The reproductive process in its complete form, the dating a past experi- 
ence, involves, as we saw, a somewhat elaborate mode of construction in 
the time-scheme employed. Not only so, it is to be noted that what we 
call remembering or recollecting is by no means an exact transcription of 
the actual facts of presentation. The record of memory is being continu- 
ally falsified by the effects of time, the loss of certain constituents of the 
experience, and the confusion of experiences one with another. And to 
this may be added that, in recalling past experiences, we tend, without 
any clear intention, to omit and even to rearrange so as to suit new cir- 
cumstances, or gratify a new interest. Thus, in various ways, the re- 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 



239 



productive process is adulterated by an admixture of sub-conscious pro- 
duction.* 

Nature of Production. It is evident that imagination 
as thus understood stands in a close relation to the pro- 
cesses of presentation and reproductive imagination. That 
imagination has to do in a special way with the things of 
sense was recognised by ancient philosophy. Whenever 
we picture a place, a scene, an event we read or hear of, we 
are engaged with sensible experience, the impressions of 
sight, hearing, and so forth. Such picturing is obviously 
effected by means of a reproduction of past sensations. To 
imagine ' darkest Africa,' and even the Heaven of Milton 
or Goethe, is to make use of our past sense-experiences. f 

Not only so, the modes of connexion of our experience 
necessarily reflect themselves in all our imaginative pictur- 
ings. Thus it is obvious that all production makes use of 
those forms of combination which seem inseparable from 
our experience, viz., the order of space and of time. When- 
ever we imagine, even in the wildest dreams of sleep, 
though we may be confusing particular positions or dates, 
we are still grouping objects in space and ordering events 
in time. Other illustrations of this reflexion of the con- 
nexions of our actual sense-experience are seen in our 
habitual picturing of things as concrete wholes resembling 
those we know through our senses, of the movements of 
objects as continuous from one point of space to another, 
and so forth. 

It follows that what we mean by productive imagination 
consists merely in carrying out certain changes or modifications 
in that reflexion of our sense-experience which is supplied by the 
reproductive process. Such changes must in general consist 
of two kinds: (1) a process of separation or subtraction, 

* I have given a full description of these processes in my volume, 
Illusions, chap. x. (" Illusions of Memory"). 

f In addition to such sensuous imagination, there is the imagination of 
inner mental states, and more particularly feelings, a process that plays a 
large part in sympathy. But this direction of imagination may be disre- 
garded for the present. 



240 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



and (2) a process of combination or addition. The former 
is illustrated in all picturing of objects away from their 
habitual surroundings, e. g., a house on a new site ; of iso- 
lated parts, features, or qualities of an object, as the head 
of a decapitated man, the colour of the orange or the gen- 
tian apart from its form ; and of objects robbed of certain 
of their features or diminished in their size, as the one-eyed 
Cyclops, the diminutive Puck, and so forth. The latter 
process is seen in the imagination of objects with new 
features or in new circumstances, as in the stock instances, 
the mountain of gold, the centaur, the mermaid, and the like. 

The processes of imaginative production now to be con- 
sidered are carried out in relation to all kinds of sense- 
presentation. Thus, in the domain of hearing, musical 
tones and articulate sounds are susceptible of endless sepa- 
ration and recombination. So, in the region of muscular 
experience or motor presentation, we may occupy ourselves 
with taking apart customary complexes and forming new 
combinations, as in picturing the motion of flying, and so 
forth. Since, however, visual presentations constitute the 
most important class, presenting, moreover, the double 
complexity of a local juxtaposition of parts, and a combi- 
nation of the heterogeneous and easily separable elements 
of colour and form, the imaginative process as commonly 
understood is specially concerned with unmaking and re- 
making visual or pictorial representations.* 

Such imaginative manipulation of the material of sense- 
experience plays a large part in mental development. It is 
very far from being, as sometimes supposed, a mere pas- 
time of the mind, but enters, as we shall presently see, as 
an integral factor into the development of intelligence. 

Limits to Imagination. It follows from this brief 
account of the productive process that all imaginative ac- 
tivity is limited by experience. To begin with, then, since 
production is merely an elaboration of presentative mate- 
rial, there can be no such thing as a perfectly new creation. 

* This is clearly recognised in current modes of speech, as when we 
talk of the eye of imagination, its far-sightedness, and so forth. 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 24 1 

The greatest imaginative genius would strive in vain to 
picture a wholly new colour. 

But, again, the processes of separation and combination 
are themselves conditioned and limited. When two things 
have always been conjoined in our experience it is impossi- 
ble to picture them apart. Thus, though we may imagina- 
tively vary the colour of an object at pleasure, we cannot 
picture it as having no colour at all. Not only so, it may 
be said that the more uniformly two things are conjoined, 
the more difficult it becomes to dissociate them. Thus it 
is much easier to picture a moving object, as a man, apart 
from a definite set of local surroundings, than a stationary 
one, as a church. On the other hand, the mind finds it 
difficult to combine images as new wholes when experience 
suggests that the elements to be combined are incompati- 
ble. The Oriental king could not picture solid water or 
ice. We all find it hard to imagine persons on the other 
side of the globe with their feet towards ours, and yet not 
falling downwards. 

Passive and Active Imagination. It is customary 
to distinguish between a passive and an active process of 
imagination according as the changes just described are 
carried out unconsciously, or at least without any effort of 
voluntary attention, or involve this active factor. A word 
or two will serve to illustrate the distinction. 

Passive imagination is that part of the unmaking and 
remaking which is done for us by the so-called spontaneous 
or mechanical workings of our psycho-physical organism. 
As already remarked, the images of memory tend to be- 
come transformed by a passive, unconscious, or automatic 
process. Thus the very imperfections of the retentive 
power lead to a partial or fragmentary reinstatement of 
percepts, and so bring about a certain amount of separa- 
tion of presentative material. Thus we often recall a face 
without the figure, a pair of eyes apart from the face, and 
so forth. Again, the automatic processes of revival would 
introduce a certain amount of recombination of presentative 
elements. If a common element A occurs in the different 
16 



242 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



combinations CAB, MAP, and so forth, the common pres- 
ence of A may beget new combinations among these ad- 
juncts, e. g., MC or PB. Thus in recalling two roles of one 
and the same actor we are apt to find ourselves picturing a 
patchwork of two figures, as the cloaked form of Hamlet 
and the wind-driven locks of Pear. That similarity does 
thus effect a certain regrouping of presentative complexes 
is clearly illustrated in many of the confused images of our 
dreams. 

This action of similarity is aided by the effect of a 
plurality of suggestive stimuli, and the workings of diver- 
gent suggestion. At a given moment a number of ex- 
ternal impressions and organic sensations may occur to- 
gether for the first time, each tending to recall a separate 
group of images. By such partial contemporaneous revivals 
of disconnected elements new juxtapositions and groupings 
arise. This process is clearly illustrated in the grotesque 
combinations that arise quite spontaneously in the childish 
mind before the habit of inhibiting these as useless has 
been formed. 

While, however, much production takes place in this un- 
conscious or sub-conscious manner, the higher and more 
valuable forms of it involve an active regulative factor. 
Here, as in the case of active reproduction, we have the 
work of voluntary attention, the aiding of certain tenden- 
cies, and the counteracting of others, in order to reach a 
particular desired result. It is only when the productive 
process is thus controlled and guided by the will that it be- 
comes in the full sense what we mean by construction, i. e., 
an orderly, methodical bringing together and arranging of 
parts in a new organic whole. 

The Process of Construction. In tracing out this 
process of construction we must note (1) to begin with that, 
like all elaboration, it requires as its condition the presence 
of certain materials. All that the most careful direction of 
the attention can effect is certain modifications in the spon- 
taneous or automatic flow of images. 

These materials are supplied ultimately, as we have 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 



243 



seen, by our sense-presentations. The retention and repro- 
duction of percepts is presupposed in all imaginative pro- 
duction. There is no production without reproduction. In 
trying to realise a scene described by a traveller or a poet 
I am wholly dependent on the revival of past experiences 
of my own. Such reproduction will take place by way 
both of contiguous suggestion and assimilative revival. It 
is only when these revivals take place readily that the con- 
structive process can advance. Hence the frequently ob- 
served fact of the vividness, rapidity, and range of repro- 
ductive ideation in the case of men of great imagination. 

(2) Again, active production is aided by the automatic 
regrouping of elements just described. Active and passive 
imagination are not wholly distinct, but the former includes 
the latter. Much of the highest imaginative work of the 
poet is due to the action of those sub-conscious forces 
which are ever at work bringing about novel combinations 
of imaginative elements. The initial idea is in most, if not 
all, cases of such active imagination the outcome of this 
automatic action. 

(3) The conscious elaboration consists in keeping the 
first draft-image fixed in the mind, and improving on it 
and developing it by the aid of such further image-material 
as is suggested by the special circumstances of the time. 
As in the case of active reproduction, the function of vol- 
untary attention is here limited to developing and fixing or 
retaining certain elements, and rejecting others. Thus, in 
trying to imagine a new experience, say a day in a country 
house, a child starts with a crude idea of what it is like, 
based on a revival of previous analogous experiences. 
Keeping this idea steadily before his mind, he recalls in 
close connexion with it, and by the aid now of assimilative 
revival, now of contiguous suggestion, a number of other 
experiences. The selective action of voluntary attention 
here comes in, rejecting what is recognised as unfitting and 
incongruous, and furthering the reinstatement of what is 
seen to be suitable. In this way a more elaborate image- 
structure gradually arises by a process of organic accretion 



244 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



or growth, the whole being controlled by what we call a 
volitional activity. 

It is evident from our brief analysis of the constructive 
process that its due regulation depends upon a clear sense 
or judgment of what is fitting for the purpose in hand. It 
is, indeed, the degree of fineness of this guiding sense 
which principally determines the success of the whole 
operation. According as a poet, for example, has a clear 
and discriminating, or a dull and obtuse, sense of what is 
aesthetically valuable, congruous, or harmonious, so will his 
constructive work be well or ill performed. 

The result aimed at, and the corresponding guiding 
sense of fitness, will differ in different cases. In reading a 
book of travels, for example, we seek to frame clear men- 
tal pictures which fit in with the rest of the series ; and we 
know when we have hit on the right combination of images 
in this case by a consciousness of the consistency of the 
grouping and of its agreement with the facts of our experi- 
ence, in other words, by a feeling of satisfaction which 
comes of understanding what we read. On the other hand, 
in combining movements in order to bring about a wished- 
for practical end, we are guided by an instinctive sense of 
what is feasible, and what will conduce to the desired end. 

Receptive and Creative Imagination. The con- 
structive process just described assumes a variety of forms 
according to the special circumstances, the materials dealt 
with, and so forth. One such variation presents itself in 
the difference between the externally determined or recep- 
tive form of the process, and the independent or creative 
form. The former is illustrated in the realisation of an- 
other's ideal grouping through the medium of language. 
Thus in reading a poem and forming a mental picture of 
the scenes and incidents described the mind of the reader, 
though called upon to construct, has the order of construc- 
tion pre-determined for him by the particular arrangement 
of the poet's words and sentences. Such receptive imagi- 
nation is, as we all know, a comparatively simple opera- 
tion. The imagination of the poet, on the other hand, 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 245 

which first created the combination, had no such lines laid 
down for its activity. The act of construction in this case 
is of a higher order, involving more complex processes of 
reproduction, rejection, and selection, and directed solely 
by an internal sense of what is beautiful or harmonious. 
Hence such original or creative imagination is rare, and is 
always taken as a mark of extraordinary mental power. 

Various Directions of Construction. The process 
of productively combining images follows more than one 
direction, being the essential mode of activity in a variety 
of mental operations. The more important of these may 
be grouped under three heads: (1) Construction as sub- 
serving knowledge about things, Intellective Imagination ; 
(2) Construction as aiding in the carrying out of actions or 
practical operations, Practical Construction ; and (3) Con- 
struction as subserving feeling, the satisfaction of the emo- 
tions, of which the principal form may be called yEsthetic 
Construction. 

(a) Intellective Imagination. It must be evident 
that the expansion of knowledge beyond the bounds of 
personal experience and observation involves a process of 
imaginative production. This is seen alike in the acquisi- 
tion of new knowledge from others through the medium of 
language, and also in the independent discovery of new facts 
by imaginatively forecasting what will be observed, or 
might be observed. The first illustrates the receptive, the 
second the creative kind of imaginative activity. 

The process of recalling, selecting, and regrouping the 
traces of personal experience is illustrated in ordinary 
verbal acquisition. What is commonly called ' learning,' 
whether by oral communication or by books, is not simply 
an exercise of memory; it involves an exercise of the im- 
agination as well. In order that the meaning of the words 
heard or read may be realised, it is necessary to frame 
clear and distinct pictures of the objects described or the 
events narrated. Thus, in following a description of a 
desert, the child begins with familiar experiences called up 
by the words ' plain,' ' sand,' and so on. By modifying the 



246 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

images thus reproduced by memory he gradually builds up 
the required new image. 

The success of the operation will turn on the recalling 
of the appropriate image-elements, and only these. The 
suggestive forces, when uncontrolled, tend to bring up 
what is not wanted. Thus, in imagining the desert by help 
of the sand, the child may be led by contiguous associa- 
tion to recall the cliffs and the sea. Accurate knowledge- 
bringing construction involves a careful process of dis- 
crimination of the new object, scene, or action from its 
prototype in previous experience, as supplementary to the 
assimilative process. 

On the success of this imaginative effort what is known 
as the understanding of verbal description will depend. If, 
for example, in following a description of an iceberg, a boy 
pictures a mass of ice, but does not distinctly represent its 
magnitude, he will not understand the dangers arising to 
ships from those floating masses. Here we see the close 
relation between clear imagination and clear thinking, a 
relation to be spoken of again by-and-by. 

The activity of imagination enters not only into the ac- 
quisition of knowledge about concrete things and events 
not directly observable by us, as far-off countries and races 
of men, and the events of history, but also into the assimi- 
lation of scientific knowledge. Science, it is true, has to 
do with the general, and so makes her largest appeal to 
other intellectual activity than that of imagination, which 
deals with the concrete and sensible. At the same time, 
before the mind can seize the general, it must have clear 
images of concrete examples. These must of course be 
based as far as possible on direct perception, or observa- 
tion through the senses ; but this cannot always be done. 
Thus, for example, the movements of the planets, the cir- 
culation of the blood, are things which we are called on 
to a large extent to imagine constructively by the aid of 
analogies to previous objects of perception. Even those 
sub-sensile material elements and processes of which mod- 
ern physical science tells us so much, as the vibrations 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 247 

of light and heat, the conjunctions and disjunctions of 
atoms and molecules in chemical changes, have in a way 
to be pictured by the mind, and so the understanding of 
these impalpable entities may be said in a measure to exer- 
cise the imagination. 

The kind of imaginative work here referred to, so far 
from being easy, is exceedingly difficult. It must be remem- 
bered that language is in its nature general and abstract. 
Words (other than proper names at least) tend to call up 
not a definite image of one particular object, but a general 
idea of a class of common quality. Hence all verbal de- 
scription of individual scenes, persons, and so forth, has to 
proceed by a gradual process of individualization. That is 
to say, the general name has to be supplemented by a num- 
ber of qualifying terms, each of which helps to mark off 
the individual thing better. Thus the historian depicts a 
particular king or statesman by progressively enumerating 
his several physical and mental qualities, the savant de- 
scribes an animal or a plant by giving the more important 
characters. It follows that the process of realising the 
description turns on the proper combination of several gen- 
eral or ' abstract ' ideas into the image of a concrete object. 
This process has been named ' concreting the abstract.' 

The discovery of new knowledge is largely a matter of 
careful observation and patient reasoning from ascertained 
facts and truths. Yet what has been called the " scientific 
imagination " materially assists in the process. The inquir- 
ing, searching mind is always passing beyond the limits of 
the known, and seeking to grasp the unknown by processes 
of imaginative conjecture which cannot be reduced to the 
form of conscious reasoning. The power of thus divining 
unobserved facts is commonly spoken of as imaginative in- 
sight into things. The child shows the rude germ of this 
capability when picturing to himself the make of his toys, 
or the way in which plants nourish themselves and grow. 

Not only does imagination thus reach out in anticipa- 
tion of unobserved facts, it is busy devising suppositions 
(or hypotheses) for the explanation of them. A scientific 



248 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

hypothesis, though, when fully developed, it assumes the 
form of a general truth, is reached by the help of a process 
of constructive imagination. That is to say, the mind of 
the scientific discoverer seeks to realize the action of the 
forces at work by imaginatively picturing their action in a 
concrete case, such imagination being carried out by help 
of facts gained from past observation. Thus the invisible 
modulatory movements of sound and light were at first 
' visualised ' by the help of certain sensible undulations, 
as, for example, those of the sea. 

(/;) Practical Construction : Contrivance. Again, 
the process of construction enters into our every-day prac- 
tical acquisitions, such as various forms of manipulation, 
the co-ordinations of the movements of the limbs in new 
groupings, as in learning to swim, skate, and so forth. A 
child advances in the command of his limbs, putting them 
to ever new uses, by modifying already acquired move- 
ments, that is to say, breaking up old combinations, and 
regrouping them in new arrangements. As we shall see 
more fully by-and-by when we come to trace the progress 
of this active development more in detail, much of this 
practical acquisition is suggested by the actions of others. 
The impulse of imitation leads a child to copy the speech 
and actions of his parents and companions. Such imitative 
construction of new motor groupings, being directed by the 
presentation of another's movements, may be marked off as 
the receptive side of the practical imagination. 

While much new practical acquirement may thus be at- 
tained by imitation and instruction, it is also gained by 
individual origination, or what we call contrivance. Thus, 
as we all know, children work out many new combinations 
of movement for themselves. Their active impulses find a 
satisfaction in manual and other experiments. Such activity 
is, moreover, greatly sustained by the impulse of curiosity, 
the desire to find out about the make of things, their origin, 
and so forth. In this way, practical construction, under the 
form of experiment, greatly assists in the discovery of facts. 

More complex examples of this practical construction 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 249 

are seen in all ingenious mechanical inventions, such as the 
spinning-jenny, the steam-engine, and the like. It is this 
higher plane of construction to which we commonly refer 
when speaking of original practical invention. Here it is 
evident there enters in much previous knowledge of related 
mechanical processes, and a specially fine tact or judgment 
with respect to the adaptation of this and that agency, or 
group of agencies, to the particular practical result desired. 

In all forms of practical contrivance the general con- 
ditions of successful construction hold good. A sufficient 
store of material, that is to say, a wide and varied expe- 
rience, fitted to supply constituent elements for the new 
process, is presupposed. Next to this comes skill in break- 
ing up and rearranging this material in new forms under a 
clear practical sense of fitness or adaptability to an end. 
These qualifications must, it is evident, be supported by a 
strong interest in the result, and a steady volition or reso- 
lution. 

(c) Esthetic Imagination. There remains the pro- 
cess of construction as it takes place in connexion with 
states of feeling of marked intensity. The full under- 
standing of the influence of the feelings on the intellectual 
processes must be postponed till we come to discuss the 
former : here it may suffice to indicate briefly the modifica- 
tions of the form of the constructive process which occur 
under the influence of the more palpable states of feeling. 

The connexion between feeling and imagination is rec- 
ognized by all. Indeed, when we think of imagination, we 
naturally conceive of it as impelled and sustained by feel- 
ing. We are all most imaginative when we feel most. The 
activity of imagination in the Fine Arts, which have as their 
special function the gratification of the feelings, illustrates 
this connexion in a particularly clear manner. 

The two main distinctions of such feeling-prompted 
imagination are the special vividness of the imaginative 
realisation, and the particular direction of the selective 
process. Feeling as a form of excitement tends to give 
exceptional vividness, distinctness, and persistence to the 



250 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



images called up at the time, as is plainly illustrated in the 
fact that states of preternatural emotional excitement, as 
terror, are apt to induce an illusion, i. e., a mode of imagi- 
nation which simulates the vividness and other marks of 
the sense-presentation. 

In the second place, the presence of a feeling gives a 
particular direction to the imaginative process. As we 
shall see more fully by-and-by, every feeling tends to reinstate 
those particular images which are through association accom- 
panied by a tone of the same or a kindred feeling, and conse- 
quently serve to intensify and prolong the initial feeling. Thus 
in a state of joy we are disposed to entertain pleasant ideas 
rather than any others ; in a state of grief, sad or unpleas- 
ant ideas ; in a state of fondness, ideas of the beloved one's 
good qualities, future achievements, and so forth. 

The range of this feeling-prompted imagination is much 
larger than is commonly supposed. There is a form of it 
that enters into all quasi-^o^Xxo. contemplation of natural 
objects. We expand our life of feeling by imaginatively 
realising the objects that surround us, as when we imagi- 
natively feel the delicious coolness of the summer stream, 
or the perfect pliancy of the waving grass. Not only so, 
with that impulse to give life to things that is born with us 
and never leaves us, we imaginatively or sympathetically 
project our own feeling into the world of objects. Thus, 
as is well pointed out by Lotze, we extend by a kind of 
poetic fiction our feeling of strength, of agility, of personal 
dignity, to our walking-stick, our dress, and the like, in- 
corporating these, so to speak, into our sentient organism. 
Similarly we discern in the changing aspects of nature, its 
sunshine and its gloom, its storminess and its repose, re- 
flexions of our own varying emotional states. 

The constructive efforts of the poet are but a higher 
development of the same processes. He builds up his 
beauteous world, where nature is surpassingly lovely, 
human action preternaturally noble, and so forth, through 
this selective action of feeling. It is the aesthetic feeling, 
the love of the beautiful, the sense of harmony, which here 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 25 I 

inspires the whole process of image-formation. In the 
poet's mind image-groups form themselves with scarcely 
any volitional control, through the instinctive feeling for 
a beautiful result which at once seizes and retains any con- 
junctions that have the appropriate aesthetic charm. 

It follows from this that aesthetic imagination is essen- 
tially an idealising process. By selectively bringing to- 
gether only that which answers to a particular feeling, it 
effects a mode of integration which stands in marked con- 
trast to the associative groupings of our real experience. 
It is essentially a harmonising of facts in conformity with 
the needs of feeling.* 

Relation of Imagination to Intellect. In these pro- 
cesses of feeling-prompted imagination the limits of truth 
and probability are apt to be lost sight of. The impelling 
and sustaining feeling alone determines the direction of the 
constructive activity. And, as has been just shown, this 
tends to take us far from the modest confines of fact. The 
vast domain of golden and intoxicating hope, of poetic ro- 
mance, attests sufficiently this tendency of imagination to 
transcend the region of sober reality. 

Such free indulgence in the pleasures of imagination 
has, it is evident, a bearing on the question of its intel- 
lectual value. We saw above that the imaginative pro- 
cess when carried out under certain conditions, viz., the de- 
sire for knowledge and a sense of what is consistent and 
probable, is an integral part of the operations of intellec- 
tion itself. And we have now seen that when swayed by 
feeling and so divorced from the sense of truth and proba- 
bility it leads in directions away from reality. Now, this 
might not matter if such indulgence had no relation to be- 
lief. But, as we all know, the formation of vivid ideas and 
the dwelling on these involve the danger of regarding them 
as representative of reality. Imagination, as we shall see 
more fully by-and-by, directly fosters belief. We all tend 
to accept as true, for the moment at least, our visions of 

* This properly emotive control of the imaginative process is well illus- 
trated in our dreams. (See my volume, Illusions, chap. vii. p. 164, etc.) 



252 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the future, and the delightful stories of romance. And 
thus we find in imagination, as commonly understood, a 
force at work that is antagonistic to intellect, and the logi- 
cal end of truth. 

It must be confessed that writers on the imagination, 
here following common opinion, have been wont to dilate 
on the intellectual dangers of imagination rather than on 
its uses. By confining their attention to the vagaries of 
imagination under the stimulus of strong feeling they have 
lost sight of its properly intellectual function. This over- 
sight is clearly illustrated in the old opposition of imagina- 
tion and understanding. This view overlooks the fact that, 
when duly controlled, imaginative activity not only leads 
on to the grasp of new concrete fact, but even prepares the 
way for the higher processes of thinking. By giving mo- 
bility and flexibility to the images of memory it is an es- 
sential preliminary to that activity of thought which we 
shall consider presently. 

Course of Development of Imagination. The ac- 
tivity of imagination follows a well-marked course during 
the life of the individual, and appears to have had a similar 
development in the life of the race. And it may be worth 
while, as in the case of memory, to briefly indicate the 
stages of this development. 

Production being dependent on reproduction, the im- 
aginative process does not begin to appear till the repro- 
ductive process attains a certain strength. It follows, 
moreover, from the large role assumed by language in new 
ideal formations, as in the reproduction of presentations, 
that the imaginative process only reaches a considerable 
development after a certain command of the plastic verbal 
material has been acquired. The child begins to show 
readiness and boldness in the weaving of new fanciful com- 
binations when it becomes skilful in the manipulation of 
words, and, through the medium of such word-rearrange- 
ment, is able to effect a regrouping of its visual and other 
images. It has been pointed out by a good observer in the 
domain of infant psychology that a child will not display 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 253 

an interest in stories until he has had some practice in fol- 
lowing a verbal narration of his own past experiences. 
And it is presumable that the imaginative efforts of the 
race in the lower stages of culture grew in like manner 
out of ideal rehearsals of past experience, and in close con- 
nexion with the manipulation of language. 

When these conditions are satisfied we find that imagina- 
tion becomes rapidly a leading type of activity in the case 
both of the individual and of the race. The ignorance of 
the real world and its laws leaves the child and the uncult- 
ured man with a vast domain of the unknown which they 
are free to fill up with the products of their fancy; and a 
number of impulses, including a crude undisciplined curi- 
osity itself, leads the uninformed mind to people this large 
terra incognita with forms of its own invention. Hence the 
rich efflorescence of fancy in the child who, from the age 
of three or four onwards, is wont to fashion an invisible 
world of his own, into which he retires in dream-like seclu- 
sion as the impulse takes him. Hence the quaint amusing 
fancies by the help of which he ekes out his sparse knowl- 
edge of the material world and human life, grasping and 
explaining what he sees or hears about in his inimitable 
childish fashion. Hence, too, the naive spontaneity and 
vigour of the imagination of primitive peoples, as attested 
in the systems of folk-lore and mythology that have come 
down to us. 

The prodigality of this early fancy is strikingly illus- 
trated in the play of young children. Play may be consid- 
ered from more than one psychological point of view. 
Thus, looked at one way, it is the region of primitive spon- 
taneous action, the natural vent of the child's active im- 
pulses, its inclination to do things, and to find out new 
ways of doing them. Viewed on another side, it illustrates 
the imitative or mimetic impulse of children, for play is 
largely a mimicry of the actions of adults. This mimicry 
is, however, plainly a make-believe. The child does not 
seriously follow out the actions of father, nurse, and so 
forth, when it plays with its hobby-horse or with its doll. 



254 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



All play is thus fanciful. When at play the child realises 
by an exercise of fancy the scene and action which he is 
mimicking. The actual presentations, the doll, the wooden 
bricks, and so forth, do, indeed, supply a certain basis of 
sense-reality ; and this is of great assistance to the young 
imagination in attaining to a half-illusory realisation of its 
images. At the same time, the basis is commonly slender 
enough. It is only when what has been called " the al- 
chemy of imagination " begins its work that the battered 
and broken doll becomes in a manner transformed into a 
living child, and the rude stick into a living, prancing 
horse. Hence a boy will often derive as much pleasure 
from a broken and shapeless hobby-horse as from the most 
ingenious of mechanical toys. Play thus illustrates in a 
striking manner the liveliness and range of childrens' 
fancy. 

As we all know, the progress of experience and the 
growth of knowledge lead, in the case of the child and of 
the race alike, to a moderation of this prolific primitive 
imagination. From the first spontaneous form in which it 
is free to follow every capricious impulse, it passes into the 
more regulated form in which it is controlled by knowledge, 
and the sense of probability. The development of the 
higher forms of intellection, though carried out upon the 
results of careful observation, tends to check this lavish 
profusion of infantile fancy. The child and the race no 
longer account for rain, snow, and wind by help of myth- 
ical personages, personifications of Nature's forces, but by 
what we call her laws. Expectation learns to move along 
the lines of probability. And the same progress of knowl- 
edge and of the logical faculty influences the ideas of art. 
The child's nursery stories, " Jack the Giant Killer " and 
the rest, cease to please, because they are now seen in their 
flagrant and absurd impossibility. 

Nevertheless, although the accumulation of experiences 
and the development of higher intellectual powers thus 
tend to restrict the wild play of childish fancy, they by no 
means arrest or even impede the movements of imagina- 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 



255 



tion. It is a mistake to suppose that imagination no longer 
thrives when these primitive activities become circum- 
scribed. What we dignify by the name of the boldness, 
the energy of childish imagination, is in truth merely the 
result of the absence of knowledge. Moreover, these com- 
binations are very easy ones from the child's point of view, 
being simple in structure and modelled on the pattern of 
familiar every-day facts. It is to be noted that the child 
or the savage who is able to weave some picturesque myth 
could not form a clear mental picture of an animal that 
was described to him. Imagination passes out of this 
sportive childish form into a disciplined methodical one in 
which it becomes capable of more and more complex and 
difficult operations. In this way it helps, on the one hand, 
to extend the range of our knowledge, by assisting in the 
realisation and understanding of all that others tell us, that 
is to say, of by far the larger part of what the educated 
know ; and, on the other hand, to widen and vary the region 
of aesthetic enjoyment, by enabling us to transport our- 
selves more easily and therefore more enjoyably into the 
wide and well-filled worid of modern poetry. 

The Culture of the Imagination. The general con- 
ditions of mental development apply to the growth and im- 
provement of the imaginative process just examined, and 
this circumstance enables us to lay down certain practical 
rules for its methodical culture. 

The exercise of imagination must of course have its 
basis laid in that of observation and reproduction. The 
poet and the artist observe finely, and retain their observa- 
tions in a vivid and distinct form. A man may, however, 
be finely observant, and retentive of what he observes, and 
yet comparatively incapable of elaborating the material so 
gained into new forms. The contrast frequently drawn 
between the observant and the imaginative child, and the 
logical and the poetic mind, sufficiently illustrates this 
truth. To follow readily and with pleasure the descriptive 
words of a writer is in itself an art. 

This special training in productive reading is carried 



256 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

out to some extent by ordinary intellectual studies; more 
especially subjects like travels, descriptive geography, his- 
tory, are an acknowledged means of attaining vividness 
and distinction of imagination. The study of the " hu- 
manities " has been upheld on the ground that it cultivates 
imaginative insight into others' thoughts and mental expe- 
rience generally. 

Owing, however, to the severe demands now made on 
the logical faculty, and the habit it induces of regarding 
things as generalities and abstractions, the imagination can 
only maintain a vigorous activity by means of that wider 
culture which embraces poetry and art. It is, as we have 
seen, under the vivifying touch of poetic or aesthetic feel- 
ing that the imaginative process attains its full strength. 
The study of poetry and imaginative literature as a whole 
is thus the great instrument for developing the imagina- 
tion. Such study helps us to preserve some of the mobility 
and some of the vivacity of primitive fancy itself. 

The Educational Management of the Imagination. The edu- 
cator is no less concerned with the process of imaginative production than 
with those of reproduction. The constructive work of the Kindergarten, 
already referred to, involves both the practical and the aesthetic side of 
these processes. It is, however, the intellective direction of imaginative 
activity Avhich is of the greatest importance to the teacher. 

The peculiar relation of the imaginative process to intellection invests 
the educational problem with peculiar difficulties. The teacher bent on 
securing full and accurate knowledge must seek at once to develop and to 
restrain the imagination of his pupils. 

That imagination requires restraining nobody will doubt. " Nothing 
is more dangerous to reason than the flight of imagination. . . . Men of 
bright fancies may in this respect be compared to those angels whom the 
Scriptures represent as covering their eyes with their wings."* In the 
case of children of a very vivid imagination the management of the faculty 
is often a matter of some difficulty. Extravagant and injurious fancies 
must, it is plain, be dispelled. And the vividness of imagination must not 
be carried to the point of confusing fiction and reality. In such a case the 
immediate object of education should be to strengthen concurrently the 
powers of judging and reasoning as a make-weight against a too lively 
imagination. 

* Hume, Treatise of Human A T ature, bk. i. pt. iv, § 7. 



PRODUCTIVE IMAGINATION. 257 

At the same time it is one important part of a teacher's work to 
stimulate the imaginative power by supplying appropriate objects. The 
habitual narration of stories, description of places, and so on, is an essen- 
tial ingredient in the rudimentary stages of education. The child that 
has been well trained at home in following stories, will, other things being 
equal, be the better learner at school. 

In order to train the imagination wisely the teacher must attend to 
the natural laws of its operation. Thus he must see that the child has 
command of the necessary materials. By these are meant not only the 
images which supply the elements or details of the mental picture to be 
formed, but a representation or representations which may serve as a 
rough model for the composition. In describing new objects reference 
should be made to similar ones already known. Further, it is to be borne 
in mind that the process of production is at its best when the feelings are 
stirred, and care must be taken to render the objects of description at- 
tractive. 

The imaginative faculty, like every other faculty, must be called into 
play gradually. Not only must the constructive operation be adapted to 
the growing experience of the child, and the natural order of unfolding of 
his feelings, it must be suited to the degree of imaginative power already 
attained. Thus descriptions and narrations should increase in length and 
complexity by gradual steps. The first exercises of the imagination should 
be carried out by means of short accounts of interesting incidents in ani- 
mal and child life. When new feelings of curiosity unfold, and the imagi- 
native faculty gains strength by exercise, more elaborate and less exciting 
stories may be introduced. 

The imagination has to be called into activity in all branches of teach- 
ing. In some branches, as history and geography, it is exercised in a very 
special manner. Here the teacher must cany out a more methodical 
training of the imagination. 

To begin with, it is desirable to call up past impressions in the most 
direct and vivid way. This end will be secured to some extent by a wise 
selection of words. These must be simple and familiar, and well fitted to 
their purpose. 

Again, in exercising the imagination, the teacher must seek to follow 
the natural order of things. He should remember that clear images are 
built up gradually. There is first a dim outline, a blurred scheme, and 
this gradually grows distinct by additions of detailed features. Thus the 
description of a country best begins with a rough outline of its contour, its 
surroundings, and its larger features, as mountain-chains, etc. Not only 
so, the teacher should progress by steps from the known to the unknown 
and from the simple to the complex. The method in teaching geography, 
of setting out with the child's immediate surroundings, and gradually pass- 
ing to more distant regions, illustrates the importance of the first condition. 
Finally, the imagination may be greatly aided by sense-presentations. It 
17 



258 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



has been remarked above that fancy builds up its creations most easily 
upon a basis of actual observation ; and this condition is complied with by 
a judicious use of maps, models, pictures, etc. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

The accounts of the process of imagination given by Dugald Stewart 
and Sir W. Hamilton are slight and unsatisfactory. Professor Bain deals 
more fully with the subject in his own manner under the head of ' Con- 
structive Association,' Compendium (Psychology), bk. ii. chap. iv. Cf. 
Hoffding, Outlines of Psychology, v. b. 12. 

On the educational aspect of the subject the reader may consult 
Madame Necker, L 'Education, livre iii. chap, v., and livre vi. chaps, viii. 
and ix. ; Beneke, op. cit,, §§ 23, 24; Waitz, op. cit., § 10 {Vom Spiele); 
Pfisterer, Padagogische Psyckologie, § 14. There are some good remarks 
on practical constructiveness in Miss Edgeworth's Essays, vol. ii. chap. xxi. 
(On Memory and Invention). 



CHAPTER X. 

PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 

General Nature of Thinking - . The intellectual op- 
erations hitherto considered have had to do with the con- 
crete, that is to say, the presentations of the senses, and 
the representations formed on the model of these. To per- 
ceive, to remember, and to imagine have reference to some 
particular object, as the river Thames, or a particular oc- 
currence, as the coronation of the German Emperor in 
187 1, in its concrete fulness as it presents itself or would 
present itself to our senses. But we may reflect on some 
one attribute of these, as the movement, or the width of the 
river, or the splendour of this particular ceremony; and we 
may reason about rivers or ceremonies in general. When 
we do thus separate out for special consideration particular 
attributes or aspects of concrete things, and consider things 
in their relation to other things, and to deal with them as 
generalities, we are said to think* 

These processes of thought constitute the highest stage 
of intellectual elaboration (intellection). By taking our 
concrete percepts and resolving them into so many ab- 
stractions (qualities or attributes of things, relations be- 
tween things) we are enabled to carry up the process of 
cognition to the last stage of unification. As long as we 
view a particular object, or an event, alone, apart from 
other things, we merely apprehend it. But when we bring 
it into relation to kindred things we comprehend it. Thus 

* Here again we have a word used in psychology in a sense somewhat 
different from its every-day one. We often say we cannot 'think' of a 
thing when we mean we cannot recall it, or cannot imagine it. 



2 6o OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

we comprehend the tiger by classing it with other members 
of the feline group. So we comprehend or understand the 
movement of the steam-engine by assimilating it to the 
more familiar action of the steam in the kettle in forcing 
up the lid. To think is thus to understand, and the two 
expressions Thought and Understanding are sometimes 
used (as by Locke) as synonymous. 

Like imaginative production, thinking is nothing but 
the sum of processes of separation and combination carried 
out on sense-material. But in this case the elaborative pro- 
cesses assume a new and peculiar form. It is one thing to 
build up a pictorial image as the poet does, another thing 
to elaborate an abstract idea, such as the scientific notion 
of force, fulcrum, and so forth. We must now try to inves- 
tigate more thoroughly the nature of this thought-elabo- 
ration. 

Thought as Activity. It is evident that the processes 
here roughly described are active processes, that is to say, 
that they involve a special exertion of the forces of atten- 
tion. In perception, reproduction, and constructive imagi- 
nation we have already found this active factor at work. 
But it is only in thought proper that this activity becomes 
fully developed. To single out analytically and think 
specially about a particular attribute in an object, say the 
colour of a rose, is, as we all know, more or less of a con- 
scious effort or strain. A child first called upon to think 
about an abstract quality, or a relation between different 
objects, finds the operation difficult and fatiguing. All 
thinking is, in truth, an exercise of the higher form of at- 
tention, viz., volitional concentration of consciousness. We 
only think when we have some purpose, as the discovery 
of the likeness or difference among objects. And such a 
purpose only develops itself as the individual and the race 
attain a certain measure of development or culture. 

This activity of thought has, as already suggested, its 
cerebral conditions. The processes of thought presuppose 
the development of the highest and most complex arrange- 
ments in the cortical centres of the brain. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 2 6l 

Directions of Thought-Activity. This thought-ac- 
tivity may be viewed as having two aspects, or as following 
two directions, which it may be well to consider apart, even 
though, as we shall presently see, they are inseparable as- 
pects of one process. Just as we saw that all intellectual 
elaboration is at once differentiation or separation and in- 
tegration or combination of what is differentiated, so we 
shall find that thought itself is but a higher development 
of each phase. 

(a) Analysis : Abstraction. First of all, then, thought 
may be viewed as a carrying further and to higher forms 
the process of differentiation or separation of presentative 
elements by means of isolating acts of attention. Thus 
in considering selectively the colour of a rose, or the form 
of a crystal, we are, it is evident, differentiating what is 
given in perception as a complex into a number of parts, 
and rendering one of these specially prominent and dis- 
tinct. Such thought-separation is commonly spoken of as 
Analysis, i. e., the taking apart of what is conjoined in a 
whole, and also as Abstraction or the withdrawal of atten- 
tion from those parts of the presented material which are 
for the moment irrelevant, and confining it to one particu- 
lar point, feature or quality (Latin, ab or abs and traho, to 
draw, i. e., the thoughts, off or away). 

This isolating attention begins, as suggested above, in 
comparatively easy and simple processes. When, for ex- 
ample, a particular feature is specially prominent and inter- 
esting, e.g., the lustre of a sun-lit sheet of water, the atten- 
tion will be drawn to it in a reflex manner. The analysis 
or abstraction of thought differs from this easy operation 
in the fact that volitional effort is required. Thus we 
carry out a process of thought-abstraction when, by a spe- 
cial exertion of volitional attention, we concentrate con- 
sciousness on a particular feature in a presentation-com- 
plex which does not at the moment strike and arouse the 
attention, e.g., the precise tint of a very faintly coloured 
object, a disguised flavour in a dish, and so forth. Here 
the presence of other and more striking features which 



262 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

draw off the attention necessitates a severer effort of re- 
sistant concentration. 

The nature of this process of analysis or abstract at- 
tention is best seen in those comparatively simple opera- 
tions in which an actual presentation-complex, as a group 
of tones or of colours, is being analysed. 

The carrying out of such a process of analysis is aided 
by certain conditions, external and internal. To begin 
with an external condition, it is found that the closer the 
degree of the complication the more difficult the isolating 
fixation. Thus, while it is comparatively easy to attend 
to one detail of colour in an object locally separated from 
other colour-details, it is exceedingly difficult to attend to 
the brightness or the degree of saturation of a colour apart 
from the quality of the hue itself. 

Coming now to internal conditions we find that the de- 
tection of an element in a complex is aided by familiarity 
with this element apart from its present concomitants. 
Thus the singling out of the partial tones of a clang is 
greatly furthered by the circumstance that these occur and 
are known apart from the ground tone and so are the more 
readily picked out and recognised. This previous experi- 
ence, by allowing a distinct idea of the constituent, aids, as 
we saw above, in the analytic selection of this constituent 
by attention. Not only so, the separate detection of a par- 
ticular presentative element is favoured by special interest 
in the same. A fine ear for clang-effect or timbre can more 
readily fix its attention on this. Such special interest works 
mainly through what is known as practice. What we are 
interested in noting, and so accustomed to note, we are able to de- 
tect readily. 

(/') Synthesis : Conscious Relating. In the second 
place, all thought is integrating or combining; or, as it is 
commonly expressed, it is a process of Synthesis. In 
thinking we never merely isolate or abstract. We resolve 
analytically the presentation-complexes of our concrete 
experience only in order to establish certain relations 
among them. The most appropriate term for all such 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 263 

conscious ' relating ' or discernment of relation is com- 
parison. 

As was seen above, all presentative material is given in 
certain relations or connexions, including that of co-exist- 
ence or co-inherence in a substance, between the several 
qualities of a thing. Thus the different parts of an ex- 
tended body stand in certain spatial relations one to 
another, one part being situated to the right of the other, 
and so forth ; and, further, the object as a whole holds like 
relations to other adjacent objects. To these space-rela- 
tions must be added the time-relations of all events, such 
as the movements of objects, their changes of form, and so 
forth. Lastly, with these ' external ' relations are given 
the so-called ' internal ' relations of difference and likeness. 

As long as we perceive or imagine the concrete object 
as such, we have only a vague ' implicit ' knowledge of 
these relations. Thus a child in looking at a house sees 
implicitly the chimney in a definite spatial relation to the 
mass of the building, but the clear explicit grasp of this re- 
lation is a subsequent process going beyond perception, 
and involving a rudiment of what we mark off as thought. 
The same remark holds good (as we saw above) with re- 
spect to the all-comprehensive relations of dissimilarity and 
similarity. In perceiving a particular object, say a tree, 
though a child differentiates it from surrounding objects 
and assimilates it to previously seen trees, the conscious- 
ness of difference and likeness is here implicit only. It is 
some way from this implicit or unconscious discrimination 
and assimilation to comparison proper, issuing in a clear 
or explicit consciousness of a relation of likeness or of un- 
likeness. 

All such explicit grasp of relation involves a new di- 
rection of adjustive effort, or of (volitional) attention. 
Just as the analytic resolution of a complex demands a 
special effort in the way of limited concentration and re- 
sistance to irrelevant concomitants, so the comparison of 
two presentations, in order to discern their relation, imposes 
a further special task in the shape of a comprehensive 



264 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

grasp. The special difficulties of this mode of combining 
attention have already been touched on. 

The process of synthetic or relating activity just de- 
scribed may take the direction of consciously grasping the 
relations immediately given along with presentations, more 
particularly the co-existence of attributes in the same ob- 
ject, and the space- and time-relations of presentations. It 
is, however, in discerning the most comprehensive relations 
of likeness and unlikeness that thought shows itself most 
clearly to be a synthetic process. Comparison has, in a 
special manner, to do with the detection of similarity and 
dissimilarity or difference. 

Comparison. 

Discernment of Likeness and of Difference. It 

has already been pointed out that likeness and unlikeness 
are two perfectly distinct relations. To apprehend a simi- 
larity between two sensations, say tones, is an intellectual 
process which we all recognise as radically unlike that of 
apprehending a difference. 

Yet while the consciousness of likeness and that of dif- 
ference are thus radically distinct as psychical processes, it 
is evident that the two relations are presented together in 
close connexion. This is obvious in the case of all complex 
presentations, as when we assimilate a lady's dress and a 
fruit on the ground of a colour-resemblance. Since, too, as 
we saw above, even in the case of sensation elements, like- 
ness is a thing of degree, shading off from perfect likeness 
or indistinguishableness to just recognisable affinity, it fol- 
lows that here, also, likeness and difference are given to- 
gether in mutual implication. Hence it may be said that 
all comparison includes some amount both of assimilation 
and of discrimination. That is to say, we either see a like- 
ness amid differences, e.g., a common trait in two otherwise 
dissimilar faces ; or, on the other hand, we distinguish two ob- 
jects by reference to some common quality, as when we notice 
a contrast of timbre in two voices, which common element 
constitutes the ground ox fundament um of the comparison. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 265 

At the same time, it is evident that the one process usu- 
ally, if not in all cases, preponderates over the other. We 
are now specially interested in the likeness of two objects, 
say two faces, or two literary styles, the moment after per- 
haps in their difference. Accordingly we may say that 
comparison is the noting of likeness against a dimly appre- 
hended background of difference, or of difference against a 
dimly apprehended background of similarity. 

General Conditions of Comparison. Comparison, 
whether specially directed to likeness or to unlikeness, has 
certain common conditions. These may be divided into 
(1) external or objective, those involved in the nature or 
concomitants of the presentations considered as features 
of our common perception, and (2) internal or subjective, 
those connected with the nature of the individual mind. 

(1) Objective Conditions of Comparison. The 
most important of these are reducible to three heads, (a) 
Strength or intensity of the presentations compared ; (b) 
Distinctness of the ground of comparison or common fac- 
tor ; and (c) Juxtaposition in time and space. A word or 
two on each of these may suffice. 

(a) It is obvious that if we are to compare two presen- 
tations, these must present themselves with a measure of 
force and persistence. We cannot compare the pitch of 
two tones if they fall below a certain degree of intensity, 
or are not sufficiently prolonged. There is a certain mod- 
erate intensity of impression which is most favourable to 
comparison. We detect the finest difference of brightness 
in the median region of the scale of luminosity. 

(&) As remarked above, all comparison presupposes a 
fundamentum, or common aspect, in the things to be com- 
pared. And the difficulty of comparison varies inversely 
with the distinctness and prominence of this element. 
Thus, to take an obvious instance, we cannot compare 
two tones in respect of pitch if this is unsteady and va- 
riable from moment to moment, or two colours if they are 
not pure. 

In comparing any two complex presentations there is a 



266 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

further difficulty due to the need of a preliminary analysis, 
the discrimination and selection of the ground of compari- 
son. It is found that the difficulty in this case varies in- 
versely with the prominence of the element. By prominence 
is here meant its impressiveness relatively to that of the 
other elements. Thus it is difficult to compare two hand- 
writings, two musical styles, and so on, in respect of some 
subtle feature that is apt to be overpowered by more pal- 
pable and striking traits. 

(c) The presentations must be capable of being brought 
before the mind in the way most favourable to comparison. 
With respect to temporal conditions, it might at first be 
supposed that the simultaneous presentation of two im- 
pressions is preferable to the successive presentation. But 
though the simultaneous occurrence of two sensations fur- 
nishes one condition of comparison, viz., proximity, it has, 
in many cases, countervailing disadvantages : such as a 
tendency of the sensations to run together and become 
confused. Weber found that two weights are much less 
exactly compared when lifted simultaneously by the two 
hands than when tested successively by the same hand. 

In the case of impressions presented in space, a certain 
local proximity is necessary for the finest comparison. 
Thus the most delicate discrimination of tint shows itself 
with respect to colours laid side by side, and at their com- 
mon boundary. 

(2) Subjective Conditions of Comparison, (a) Since 
comparison is a mode of intellectual activity involving vol- 
untary attention and concentration of mind, it obviously 
presupposes all the psycho-physical conditions necessary 
to such concentration. Thus it implies a favourable con- 
dition of the brain at the time, and also a well-practised 
faculty of mental concentration. Since, moreover, com- 
parison is a special mode of concentration, viz., a viewing 
of two things under some relation, it depends on previous 
practice in this particular line of activity. 

(&) In the second place, the act of comparison varies 
with the pre-existing attitude of mind with respect to the 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT: CONCEPTION. 267 

contents selected and the ground of comparison. In the 
case of simple sensuous contents, that is to say, sensations, 
much will obviously depend on the individual's special de- 
gree of sensibility in relation to the particular class select- 
ed. A good discriminative eye for colours and a vivid 
interest in these (which may be supposed in general to 
accompany the former) are clearly a condition of a nice 
comparison of the same. In the case of complex presen- 
tations our facility in comparing will vary with our special 
familiarity with and interest in the ground of comparison, 
and inversely as the attractive force of the other elements, 
a fact illustrated in the difference between an artist's and 
an ordinary person's comparisons of scenery, human faces, 
and so forth. 

(c) A word must be added on the effect of mental prepa- 
ration or preadjustment of mental vision. It is evident 
that when we are definitely on the look-out for a similarity 
or difference in some known particular the act of comparison 
will be facilitated. In this case we are saved the labour of 
analysis and of selecting the ground of comparison. Thus, 
if I am asked to compare two flowers with respect to depth 
of colour or delicacy of texture, the whole process is short- 
ened by the preliminary act of adjustment. 

Discriminative and Assimilative Comparison. 
Comparison is in many cases a determinate process, that is 
to say, it is specially concerned with the detection either of 
difference or of similarity. In this determinate form of the 
comparative process we have, it is evident, a special pre- 
adjustment of mind for one of the two relations. Thus, in 
comparing two prints or two coins in order to see their dif- 
ference, we start with a vague representation of some differ- 
ence, which representation becomes a definite apprehension 
by combining with the actual presentation of a certain 
point (or certain points) of difference in the objects. 

Here it is evident special favouring conditions will come 
in. Thus a preferential interest in similarity, and a prac- 
tised attitude for noting this relation, will greatly further 
the detection of this relation. The like holds good of the 



2 68 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

apprehension of difference. Hence the familiar fact that 
some people are quick to spy similarities in faces, in hand- 
writing, and so forth, while others are more alive to points 
of difference or contrast. 

Other Forms of Comparison. We have here dealt 
with the process of comparison as employed in the detec- 
tion of difference and similarity with a view to knowledge. 
But this is not the only purpose for which the operation is 
carried out. It plays a large part in connexion with the 
gratification of the feelings. The unexpected discovery of 
likeness or of unlikeness in things is a pleasant stimulus, 
and is made ample use of by the imaginative writer. Thus, 
in the similes of the poet, ideas drawn from widely remote 
spheres of experience are brought into a relation of like- 
ness, as when the sound of the summer sea is likened to 
merry laughter, a crafty man to a fox, and so forth. Here 
the object of the simile is to intensify the impression of 
some quality or aspect of an object by help of the image 
of a second object in which this is embodied in a higher and 
more impressive form. Since feeling is here the effect aimed 
at, there is no sharp analysis of likeness as in the case of 
purely intellectual comparisons. In this respect poetical 
comparisons differ from those employed for purposes of 
scientific illustration. Much the same may be said of po- 
etical contrast. The points of difference are brought out 
in order to make the impression of contrast strong rather 
than to define with precision the exact nature and limits of 
the difference. A closer approximation to such precise 
analytical determination of likeness and unlikeness takes 
place in many of the comparisons of wit. 

Connexion between Comparison and Analysis. 
A word or two may be added on the close connexion be- 
tween these two directions of thought-activity. That there 
is such a connexion was pointed out above when we were 
dealing with the general relations of differentiation and 
assimilation ; and the same fact has forced itself upon our 
notice in dealing with comparison. 

To begin with, it has become evident that in the pro- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 



269 



cesses of comparison just described analysis is involved. 
Sometimes the analysis seems to precede the comparison, 
as when we are asked to compare two flowers in respect 
of their colour, in other cases it appears rather as the result 
of comparison. Thus it is by successive comparisons of 
members of a class of things, as flowers, that we gradually 
come to analyse out their common features. 

While comparison thus involves abstraction, abstraction 
even in the case of a single object may be said to involve 
the rudiment of comparison. Thus, in analytically singling 
out for consideration the spherical form of a rain-drop, we 
implicitly and sub-consciously assimilate it to other previ- 
ously known spherical objects. 

It follows that thought is one process having two as- 
pects or distinguishable factors. Either of these may be- 
come predominant, according to special circumstances. In 
this way we obtain two varieties of operation, viz., analysis 
or abstraction, in which the recognition of likeness is sub- 
conscious, and (assimilative) comparison, where the process 
of analysis is preliminary and subordinate to a conscious 
apprehension of likeness. 

General Thought. Thus far we have been occupied 
with the two fundamental processes in thought, and we have 
illustrated these in their simplest form as employed about 
presentations or their equivalents, concrete representations. 
But, as already pointed out, what we mean by thought is 
the representation of things as classes or generalities. 

These fully-developed thought-processes are marked off 
by the use of what is known as the general idea or notion, 
such as man or virtue. General ideas, when reduced to a 
precise form, as by the logician, are spoken of as concepts, 
hence we may also speak of these explicit thought-processes 
as Conceptual Thought. 

General thinking is a fuller development of the funda- 
mental processes just considered. Thus the idea 'man' 
represents certain resemblances (common attributes, as a 
certain physical structure and degree of intelligence) run- 
ning through a number of individual objects. These com- 



270 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

mon resemblances are plainly discovered by the processes 
of analysis and comparison. More particularly thinking is 
the highest expression of the great intellective function, 
Assimilation. 

While general thinking is thus obviously assimilation or 
recognition of relations of similarity, it is, in a less obvious 
way, conscious discrimination as well : to think of man is 
implicitly to mark off man from other things as brute. All 
clear thinking about things is thus at once a conscious 
grasp of relations of similarity along with relations of dif- 
ference. 

One other characteristic of this (general) thought must 
be pointed out. It is evident that, as an assimilation of a 
number of presentations on the ground of a common like- 
ness, it is a process of combination or integration. To this 
we must now add that it is also a process of contiguous in- 
tegration. Our general thinking is carried out by help of 
language, and we connect ideas or thoughts with the ap- 
propriate forms of language by a process of associative in- 
tegration. 

Thought and Language. The uses of language as 
a medium of (concrete) reproduction have already been 
dealt with. We have now to consider another of its func- 
tions, viz., its service as an instrument of thought, or, to 
express it otherwise, its aid in passing from a concrete or 
pictorial representation of objects to a general or con- 
ceptual representation of them. 

It is commonly recognised that language is a factor in 
all general thinking. This is borne out by the fact of the 
uniform concomitance of language and thought. Thus 
language is, save in its most rudimentary form, absent in 
the case of brutes, which think at most in a very vague way. 
In the case of the child it begins to be mastered and to de- 
velop as the power of thought unfolds. And in the case of 
the human race as a whole we note that the structure of 
language becomes more complex as the thinking powers 
strengthen. 

Without anticipating our fuller analysis of the process 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT: CONCEPTION. 271 

of conceptual thought we may point out, even at this stage, 
that language is a system of general signs. A name such 
as man or virtue has for its peculiar function the marking 
off of the results of that extended analysis and comparison 
just spoken of. It is evident, for example, that the name 
man has for its special meaning the common qualities 
(physical structure and intelligence) which we have dis- 
covered by comparison in this, that, and the other indi- 
vidual. And, as we shall see more fully by-and-by, it is 
just because we have in a name a means of thus marking a 
common resemblance among objects by one and the same 
sound, or other sensuous sign, that we are able to think 
conceptually at all. 

Stages of Thinking. It is customary to distinguish 
three stages in the thinking process. First of all there is 
the formation of the general idea, notion or " concept," which 
may be said to constitute the element of thought, such as 
• material body,' ' weight.' This part of the thinking process 
is marked off as Conception. After this comes the combin- 
ing of two concepts in the form of a statement or proposi- 
tion, as when we say ' material bodies have weight.' This 
is termed an act of Judgment. Lastly, we have the opera- 
tion by which the mind passes from certain judgments (or 
statements) to certain other judgments, as when from the 
assertions 'material substances have weight,' 'gases are 
material substances,' we proceed to the further assertion, 
' gases have weight.' This process is described as Reason- 
ing, or drawing an inference or conclusion. 

These distinctions have been fixed by logicians and not 
psychologists. The mental processes here marked off by 
separate names are in spite of formal differences substan- 
tially the same. Not only so, as we shall see presently, 
conceiving, judging, and reasoning are not processes car- 
ried out separately, but rather distinguishable phases of a 
more complex operation. Nevertheless, since they have a 
value even for the psychologist, as marking off the more 
simple from the more complex forms of thinking, it is con- 
venient to adopt the distinctions. We shall accordingly in 



272 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



the present chapter deal with the process of forming the 
thought-elements, or conception, and in the following chap- 
ter consider the fuller and more complete thought-process 
as expressed in the terms judging and reasoning. 

General Ideas. 

Nature of General Ideas. In seeking to trace the 
development of this general thinking we have, first of all, 
to consider the nature and the origin of general ideas. It 
is evident that we only distinctly think about things under 
their general aspect when we are able to form such ideas. 
Thus I cannot think out the proposition 'The mushroom is 
a fungus ' until I am able to form the general ideas, ' mush- 
room ' and ' fungus.' 

A general idea may for our present purpose be defined 
as an idea having a general import or reference. Thus a 
child's idea of dog, house, or father becomes general when 
he consciously employs the term as the sign of this, that, 
and any other particular object which may answer to a 
certain description, or be found to present certain charac- 
teristic attributes or traits. Or, as the logicians express it, 
a general idea is a representation of a class of things. 

Now it is evident that general ideas as thus defined are 
reached slowly and by degrees. It is exceedingly doubtful 
whether any of the lower animals acquire them. The baby 
does not possess them, and even after attaining to speech 
remains for a long time with only the rudiments of them. 
In their perfected articulate form, as required for exact sci- 
entific thought, they are confined to a few highly-trained 
minds. 

Generic Image as Starting-point in Conception. 
The first stage in the formation of such general ideas is the 
welding together of a number of concrete images into what 
has been called a generic image. The idea ' tree ' or 
' house ' may be taken as an example. Such generic im- 
ages may be supposed to be formed by a process of assimi- 
lative cumulation. Let us imagine that a child, after ob- 
serving one dog, sees a second. In this case the strong 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 273 

resemblance in the second to the first effects a process of 
assimilation analogous to the automatic assimilation al- 
ready described. That is to say, the percept corresponding 
to the second animal is complicated with the submerged 
image of the first, which last is revived by means of easily- 
apprehended points of likeness. By such successive assimi- 
lations a cumulative effect is produced which has been 
likened to that of the superimposing of a number of photo- 
graphic impressions taken from different members of a 
class (<?. g., criminals) whereby only common features at- 
tain to distinctness and so a typical form is produced.* 

Such a process of cumulative assimilation would be 
largely passive, and independent of those active processes 
of comparison just described. It would further be capable 
of being carried forward (to some extent at least) inde- 
pendently of language. Thus we may, with some degree 
of confidence, attribute generic images to the child before 
he comes to the use of words as well as to many of the 
lower animals. It is highly probable that a baby of six 
months forms a generic image of the human face, and that 
a predatory animal compounds a generic image correspond- 
ing to the species of his prey. 

Such pictorial generic images do not necessarily carry 
with them any of that consciousness of general scope or 
import which is essential to a true general idea. At the 
same time they form a starting-point for the development 
of these. 

The transition from the image to the general idea or 
notion is effected by processes of reflective attention in 
which abstraction and comparison play a chief part. In 
order to understand how this occurs, we may suppose the 
process of automatic assimilation checked by the introduc- 
tion of some impressive difference. Thus a child possess- 
ing a generic image of dog proceeds to play with a visitor's 



* This simile must not mislead the student into thinking that the im- 
ages of the former percepts actually persist just as the earlier photographic 
impressions persist {cf. above, p. 107). 
18 



274 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



dog, and finds it wanting in the friendly sentiments of pre- 
viously known specimens. Here difference, which in the 
earlier stages of (automatic) assimilation remained indis- 
tinct in the background of consciousness, is brought for- 
ward. The unlikeness of morale in spite of the likeness of 
physique is forced on his attention, the present percept is 
separated from and opposed to the image, and a step is 
taken in marking off likeness from surrounding difference. 

As differences thus come into distinct view and impress 
themselves on the mind as the constant accompaniment of 
likenesses, a new and explicit grasp of likeness-in-difference 
ensues. This starts from a mental separation of the sev- 
eral perceptual constituents of the generic image, and a 
reflective comparison of these one with another so as to 
mark off common features or likenesses from peculiar or 
variable features or unlikenesses. Such a conscious active 
separation of definite points of resemblance from among a 
confusing mass of difference is what psychologists and 
logicians more especially mean by Abstraction. 

Differentiation of Notions of Individual and Class. 
The co-existence of likeness with unlikeness may mean one 
of two things, viz., the identity of one individual object, in 
spite of certain changes, or a general similarity among a 
number of different individuals. The process of conception 
is sometimes described as if the mind started with a defi- 
nite knowledge of individuals, and then proceeded to gener- 
alise or form a class-idea. It is probable, however, that the 
two modes of interpreting likeness-in-difference are reached 
concurrently. Thus it seems most reasonable to suppose 
that the baby which ' da-das ' every bearded person it sees 
is as yet clearly conscious neither of individuality nor of 
generality. In other words, we must not assume that it is 
stupidly confounding its father with a stranger, or, on the 
other hand, forming an idea of a general class. At this 
stage the child merely recognises certain interesting similarities, 
and proceeds to express the fact. We have to suppose that 
the clear apprehension of individual sameness is reached 
but slowly and in close connexion with the first clear 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 



275 



consciousness of different things attached by a bond of 
likeness. 

The Process of Generalisation. When once this dif- 
ferentiation of the individual-idea from the class-idea has 
advanced far enough, the process of generalisation proper, 
or the grasp of common or general qualities, can be carried 
out in the methodical way usually described by psycholo- 
gists. That is to say, a number of individual things, rep- 
resented as such, are now compared, the attention is with- 
drawn by a volitional effort from points of difference and 
concentrated on points of likeness (abstraction), and so a 
true process of generalisation carried out. Such a mode of 
procedure must, however, be regarded as answering to a 
logical ideal rather than to the actual process of concep- 
tion as observable in our every-day thinking. 

Conception and Naming. We have so far supposed 
that the processes of conception are carried out without 
any help from language. But it is exceedingly doubtful 
whether any such orderly process as that just described, 
the comparison of a number of percepts and the marking 
off of common attributes, could be achieved without the 
aid of words or some equivalent. It is probable that even 
a grasp of individual things as unities and as permanent 
identities depends on the use of a name (proper name), 
which as one and the same sound serves to mark in an em- 
phatic way the continued oneness of the object. And the 
same applies still more manifestly to the apprehension of a 
class of things. It is certain that in later life at least 
all clear thinking takes place by help of language. The 
general idea is held together and retained by means of a 
name. It is very uncertain whether in the absence of these 
and other general signs the infant or the lower animal ever 
attains to a clear consciousness of the 'one in the many,' 
the common aspect of a number of different objects. 

The question how far we can generalise or form a general idea apart 
from the use of names or other signs is one of the standing a~uces in 
psychology. The introspective examination of our own mental processes 
suggests that we do sometimes think with little if any help from words, 



276 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

e.g., in discerning analogies in different persons' mode of talking or be- 
having for which we have no appropriate names. Yet, even if this is so, 
it is to be remembered that in such cases we are employing powers of 
thought that have been developed by help of language, and so may be said 
to depend indirectly on this. 

If now we turn from the developed to the undeveloped mind, and ask 
whether children think apart from the use of language, we find the question 
exceedingly difficult. It has been alleged that one born a mute reached, 
prior to his mastery of a deaf-mute language, the highly abstract idea of 
maker or creator, and applied this to the world or totality of objects about 
him. But such mutes are known to make a certain spontaneous use of ar- 
ticulate sounds as signs, and such articulation, though unintelligible to 
others and not even heard by themselves, may be of great assistance in 
carrying out the process of abstraction. It must be further remembered 
that a normal child understands others' words, and may probably make 
some internal use of them as signs before he proceeds to articulate them 
imitatively. With respect to the lower animals, it must be admitted that 
they display something closely resembling the germ of general thinking. 
Yet it is manifest that we cannot, in this case, be certain of the degree of 
clear consciousness of generality attained. The actions of a fox caught in 
a difficulty and inventing a way of escape seem indistinguishable from 
those of a man thinking by help of general ideas and general rules. Yet 
the mental process may, after all, be non-conceptual and pictorial. 

Psychological Function of General Names. The 

psychological process of word-formation has already been 
described in connexion with the linking together of con- 
tiguous trains. Here we have to inquire how the name 
which we have seen to be at once a motor action (articula- 
tion) and an auditory sensation (articulate sound) assists 
in the formation of truly general ideas. 

A name is commonly denned as a mark or sign by the 
help of which the idea of a thing may be called up in our 
own mind or in the mind of another. Signs are either self- 
explaining, as a drawing or an imitative gesture or sound, 
or conventionally attached to objects, as the larger num- 
ber of linguistic signs or names, the symbols used in music, 
etc. Language-signs consist either of articulate or other 
percept-producing movements, as the finger-movements 
used by the deaf and dumb. 

A name may be given to one thing (proper name) or to 
a general class (common or general name). In either case, 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 277 

as explained above, it is, psychologically considered, the 
expression or indication of a similarity among our percepts. 
To name a thing is thus the outward manifestation of a 
process of assimilation. 

The name (articulation-sound complex) becomes, as we 
saw, attached to the idea it stands for by a process of con- 
tiguous integration. Looking now at names as accom- 
panying and perfecting the process of assimilation, we 
may say that, whether as employed by ourselves or as 
heard when used by others, they become specially asso- 
ciated with, and so expressive of, the similar features in 
our perceptual experience. Thus the name ' home ' spe- 
cially emphasises the recurring or constant features of the 
child's surroundings, the name ' house ' the common feat- 
ures of structure in the objects so named. 

Progressive Use of Names. In the beginning of life 
linguistic signs are used in close connexion with the process 
of automatic assimilation. Thus the recurrence of the pre- 
sentation-complex answering to a particular animal, as the 
dog, calls forth, by a process analogous to a reflex movement, 
the articulation, let us say, of the sound ' bow-wow.' This 
use of words by the child to mark likeness is partly spon- 
taneous, partly imitative. As is well known, children often 
invent names of their own, as in their pet-names for nurse, 
doll, and so forth. Thus one child used the sound ' mum ' 
as a name of eatables generally, and another the sound 
' appa ' as a name for this, that, and the other animal (kit- 
ten, chick, etc.). Children also spontaneously extend the 
use of names supplied by others, as when the sound 'ba' 
(ball) was applied to a bubble and other round objects. 
This spontaneous use of names gives place in time to an 
imitative use of them as heard by others. 

From what was said above we have to suppose that 
names are used at the beginning neither as proper or singu- 
lar, nor as general names. They merely serve to mark off 
and register common features of the child's experience. It 
is only as the processes of comparison gain in strength, 
and the difference between the individual and the general 



2 yS OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

class becomes distinct, that the two uses of names as sin- 
gular and general grow clearly differentiated. Thus the 
names Charles, Papa, Rover, and so forth, come to be 
marks of particular things, those organised experience-uni- 
ties which are thought of as having continued existence in- 
dependently of our intermittent percepts. Similarly, such 
general names as 'tree,' 'dog,' 'man,' come to be con- 
sciously applied to a number of such object-unities on the 
ground of common attributes. 

At first we find this use of general names confined to 
classes of objects having numerous points of similarity, 
and so easily representable in the pictorial form of generic 
image, as "dog," "house," and the like. Here, as pointed 
out above, the name is not used with a clear consciousness 
of its general character or function. Yet the very applica- 
tion of one and the same name to similar percepts is an 
important aid to those processes of reflective comparison 
and selection of common features out of which the definite 
apprehension of generality arises. 

The full use of general names only comes in on the 
completion of the processes of analytic comparison. On 
reflecting upon dogs, with a view to see in what exactly 
they do agree, in spite of their differences, and on gradu- 
ally gaining clear consciousness of this, that, and the other 
characteristic feature of form and action, a child marks off 
and definitely registers the results of his analysis and compari- 
son by help of the name. 

When thus definitely attached by association to the 
points of similarity singled out by abstraction from a num- 
ber of particular objects the name is used as a true general 
sign. The image now takes on a much more definite func- 
tion as a typical or representative image through the cir- 
cumstance that, by help of the demarcating sign, certain 
features stand out distinctly, and are at the same time re- 
alised as belonging not merely to one particular thing, but 
to what we call a class. Thus the name ' dog,' though 
probably still calling up an image of a more or less con- 
crete character, that is, including traits of some particular 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 



279 



individual or variety, becomes a general sign inasmuch as 
it thrusts prominently forward, and so secures special at- 
tention to, certain definitely apprehended common class- 
features (the canine form, action of barking, etc.). 

Used now in this way as a general sign of certain defi- 
nitely apprehended points of likeness or common qualities, 
the name acquires the double function attributed to it by 
logicians. That is to say, it denotes any one of a certain 
order or class of things : this class or group being deter- 
mined in respect not of the number of things included, but 
only of the common qualification or description of its mem- 
bers, that is to say, of the qualities which the name is said 
to connote. 

Formation of more Abstract Notions. A similar 
process of comparison and abstraction, clenched by a lin- 
guistic sign, takes place in the formation of those general 
ideas which answer to few common qualities, and are alto- 
gether removed from the plane of the generic image, as, for 
example, 'animal.' It is obvious that we cannot compound 
a guasi-concvete image, of the animal, as we can, roughly at 
least, compound an image of the dog. There is no common 
form running through the vast variety of animals which 
renders this possible. There is, indeed, an image-element 
here too. In thinking of animal, children and most adults 
probably image imperfectly one of the more familiar quad- 
rupeds, but in this case attention to the image is over- 
powered by attention to its wide representative function. 
Hence a child cannot form a proper general idea answering 
to ' animal ' till he has attained a considerable skill in the 
use of verbal signs as general. 

These higher steps in the thought-process become pos- 
sible by means of the verbally embodied results of the 
lower steps. It is after the child has formed the general 
ideas, ' dog,' ' horse,' and so forth, that he climbs to the 
more difficult, more comprehensive, and more abstract idea, 
' animal.' In this way we may say, with Hamilton : " Lan- 
guage is to the mind precisely what the arch is to the tun- 
nel. The power of thinking and the power of excavation 



28o OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

are not dependent on the word in the one case, on the 
mason-work in the other; but without these subsidiaries 
neither process could be carried on beyond its rudimentary 
commencement." 

Names as Substitutes for Ideas. One other feature 
of verbal signs requires to be noticed in this connexion, 
viz., their tendency with repeated use to drop all distinct 
ideational suggestiveness, and to serve in themselves as 
substitutes for ideas. This function of names will grow 
clearer to us when we come to consider the more complex 
processes of thought, but it may be illustrated, to some ex- 
tent, at the present stage of our exposition. 

It follows from the very nature of a name as a general 
sign that its meaning will only be distinctly grasped in ex- 
ceptional circumstances, when a special effort of attention 
is given. Thus I have to fix my thoughts on so familiar 
a name as "metal," "crystal," " nation," and so forth, if I 
want to have a full and clear idea of the corresponding 
thing (or class of things). It is obviously a much easier 
and shorter process to recall an ' internal ' (that is, un- 
spoken) name, and even to speak or write one, than to de- 
velop clearly the corresponding object-idea. Hence in all 
those every-day processes of thought in which a full and 
distinct ideation is not required, where relations among 
ideas may be clearly apprehended with only the faintest 
representation of the particular kind of object dealt with, 
we tend to use names as substitutes. Thus in following 
out the simple process of thought, " a bat cannot be a bird 
because it suckles its young," I can see the relation with 
only the very faintest representation of what the terms bat 
and bird signify. 

Conception as Dependent on Social Environment. 
It is evident from this brief sketch of the development of 
the general idea that it is a process which is largely depend- 
ent on the action of the social environment. Language is 
pre-eminently the invention and instrument of social life. 
It is the medium by which we communicate one to another 
our ideas, wishes, and so forth. In the early years of life 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT: CONCEPTION. 28 1 

the undeveloped intelligence of the child is continually- 
stimulated in the way described above by the common use 
of general names. The results of ages of thought-processes 
embodied in the language of educated men and women are 
thus brought to bear on the growing mind, and these con- 
stitute a main ingredient in the educational influence of the 
community upon the individual. The profound and far- 
reaching influence of this medium of common word-em- 
bodied ideas is clearly seen in the arrest of intellectual 
development where contact with the general mind, through 
language, is excluded, as in the case of neglected deaf- 
mutes, and, to a lesser degree, of those who from the isola- 
tion of circumstances are withdrawn from the stimulating 
influence of the higher phases of thought as expressed in 
the language of educated persons. As Professor Huxley 
says : " A race of dumb men deprived of all communication 
with those who could speak would be little indeed removed 
from the brutes." 

Psychology of Language : Nominalism and Conceptualism. 

The precise psychological function of language has given rise to much dis- 
cussion. That names are a material aid to the formation of general, or, as 
they have been called by Locke and others, ' abstract ' ideas, is certain ; yet 
there is little agreement as to the extent or precise nature of their service 
in thought. Thus, it is still a matter of dispute whether any general 
thinking properly so called is possible without the use of language or some 
equivalent system of general signs. It has been said that deaf-mutes think, 
that the lower animals reason in a general way, and that in the history of 
the race as also of the individual a grasp of generality precedes the use of the 
name. The point does not as yet lend itself to complete proof or disproof. 
The perplexity of the question regarding the precise nature of the func- 
tion of language in thought is brought out in the dispute between Nomi- 
nalism and Conceptualism. This had its origin in a properly philosophical 
question, namely, that respecting the nature of general knowledge. It was 
asked whether there is any external reality corresponding to our general 
notion, e.g., 'man,' over and above that of the individual men whom we 
have seen, or we or others might see. Certain thinkers have held that 
there is such a universal reality, that in the region of eternal existence 
there is something corresponding to ' man ' as distinct from 'James Smith,' 
'John Brown,' etc. These were called Realists.* In opposition to these 

* That is, conceptual not perceptual realists. Cf. above, p. 179. 



282 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the Nominalists asserted that the universal or general has no existence in 
the realm of nature or objective reality, but only appertains to the name 
as a common sign which is applicable indifferently to this, that, and the 
other object which are found to resemble one another in certain respects. 

In modern times the controversy has tended to assume the character of 
a psychological discussion. Instead of the ancient Realists we have the 
Conceptualists, who assert that our ideas may be general, or that the mind 
has, over and above the power of picturing individual objects, that of form- 
ing general notions, or ideas of classes of things. These general ideas are 
not ' sensible representations ' of individual objects, but ' abstract ' ideas, 
that is, representations of the common features (or the relations of simi- 
larity) of many individuals. In opposition to these the Nominalists assert 
that when we use general names we are still picturing or imagining the 
individual, but in a very imperfect way, that is, by attending exclusively to 
certain features marked off by the general name. The nature of the con- 
cept is only understood by considering the function of general signs. Inas- 
much as a name is such a sign, applicable alike to an indefinite number of 
individual objects, we are able by means of it to view a mental image as 
presenting features common to it and other pi - esentations. The name man, 
though calling up a more or less distinct pictorial image of a concrete man, 
at the same time emphasises the features in this image which answer to 
common human traits. In this way the image, though in itself as image 
particular and concrete, becomes representative of an indefinite group of 
like things, that is to say, of a class. 

Conception as Synthesis. Many of our notions in- 
volve, in addition to a process of abstraction and analysis, 
one of combination or synthesis. That is to say, we require 
to regroup the results of abstraction in new combinations. 
Thus, in the study of history, we have to build up out of 
the results of observation and abstraction such notions as 
' Roman Emperor,' ' feudal system,' and the like. 

This synthetic formation of complex concepts goes on 
in close connexion with a process of constructive imagina- 
tion. By this last an image (or a number of images) is first 
elaborated, which gives the peculiar form or structure to 
the concept. In this way, for example, we should form an 
idea of a class of objects lying outside the range of our per- 
sonal observation, as Roman consul, volcano, and so forth. 

In a certain class of cases this basis of constructive im- 
agination assumes the peculiar form of an incomplete or 
partially baffled imagination. The general notion here be- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 283 

comes still further removed from the sphere of concrete or 
pictorial representation. This transcending by thought of 
the limits of clear imagination is illustrated in the forma- 
tion of ideas of objects of great magnitude and of these 
magnitudes themselves, such as nation, planet, a century, a 
thousand miles, and so forth. All such notions are reached 
by a process of prolonged summation or addition of mag- 
nitudes which are themselves perceptible by the senses and 
consequently picturable by the imagination. Thus, in form- 
ing an idea of a planet, we have to take some familiar mag- 
nitude, say that of a school globe, and imaginatively amplify 
this by successive additions. 

The nature of this process is clearly illustrated in the 
ideas of all the larger numbers. The smaller numerical 
groups, as three, six, etc., present certain visual peculiari- 
ties, and as such can be seen or sensibly intuited. Hence 
the child's ideas of these smaller numbers are. obtained in 
close connexion with sense-perception by comparing differ- 
ent local arrangements of the same aggregate of objects, 
as six marbles, and numerically similar aggregates of differ- 
ent objects, as six pebbles and six sheep. Even in the case 
of these smaller numbers, however, a process of taking 
apart and putting together (analysis and synthesis) is neces- 
sary. We only fully apprehend 5 or 6 as a particular num- 
ber when we know its mode of production by a summation 
of units. In the case of the larger numbers, 20, 100, 1000, 
etc., this process of summation makes up the whole mean- 
ing of the number-symbol. The symbol 100 corresponds 
to no clear intuition of sight, consequently to no clear 
visual image. It stands for the unpicturable result of a 
prolonged process of summing, counting, or reckoning, per- 
formed on units (or small groups of these) which are them- 
selves picturable. 

This peculiarity of our ideas of number is illustrated in 
the lateness of their formation in the development of intel- 
ligence. The lower animals have but a germ of the idea of 
number. A bird will notice certain differences, e. g., the 
withdrawal of two eggs from a nest of four, but such differ- 



284 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ences are probably not realised as numerical. Similarly 
with the ideas of number of primitive man. The aboriginal 
Australian can rarely count his five fingers, and no Austra- 
lian language contains numerals above four, all numbers 
beyond this being described as 'many.' In the case of a 
child educated in a civilised community, it is some time 
before numbers are clearly apprehended as such. Thus, a 
child ^of three and a half, generally observant and intelli- 
gent, and capable of comparing the magnitudes of things 
(e.g., the heights of two persons), showed an almost com- 
plete inability to apprehend relations of number. Though 
taught to say one, two, three, etc., in connexion with con- 
crete objects, he persisted in confounding number or dis- 
crete quantity with magnitude or continuous quantity. For 
example, on seeing beads of three sizes, he called the small- 
est ' four,' those next in size ' five,' and the largest ' six.' 

The synthetic construction here described is illustrated 
in a somewhat different way in the formation of another 
class of notions. Our idea of a mathematical line, a circle, 
and so forth, does not exactly answer to any observable 
form. No straight line, for instance, discoverable in any 
actual object perfectly answers to the geometric definition. 
Even the most carefully drawn line would be found on 
closer inspection to deviate to some extent from the re- 
quired type. It follows that these notions involve more 
than a simple process of abstraction, such as suffices, for 
example, for the detection of the quality, colour, or weight. 
They presuppose in addition to this a process of idealisation, 
that is to say, the perfecting by help of symbols beyond the 
limits of clear imagination of some feature or attribute pre- 
sented in a rough or imperfect form in actual objects. A 
like process of symbolic idealisation enters into some of 
the conceptions of physical science, as a smooth plane, a 
rigid body, and so forth. 

The Control of Conception : The Logical Con- 
cept. This is not the place to trace out in detail the 
processes by which logic seeks to transform our first crude 
general ideas into true concepts. A word may, however, 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 285 

be given to these processes so far as they illustrate the car- 
rying forward of the psychological process of conception 
as here described. 

A child's first general ideas are apt to be imperfect in 
more ways than one. Thus to begin with they are com- 
monly wanting in distinctness and precision. A child and 
an uneducated adult are wont to use terms as ' water,' 
'metal,' 'plant,' and so forth, with only a very vague rep- 
resentation of the common qualities possessed by the ob- 
jects making up these classes. That is to say, the process 
of comparing things and analytically marking off common 
features is incomplete. As a consequence of the connota- 
tion of the name being thus hazy, the denotation remains 
uncertain. Thus, owing to a vague apprehension of the 
essential characters of a plant, a child may be uncertain 
whether the sea-anemone is a plant. 

In addition to this indistinctness the general idea may 
become positively erroneous as judged by the standard of 
the common, or rather what is called the correct, usage of 
the term. Thus through the narrow range of his experi- 
ence a child is very apt to import non-essential elements 
into the represented class-features, and by thus adding un- 
duly to the connotation to narrow unduly the denotation 
of the term. In this way, for example, he makes ' rose ' 
stand only for red roses, 'book ' for printed book, 'metal ' 
for solid metal. And while he thus tends, in one direction, 
to make the connotation of his words too full, and so their 
denotation too narrow, he tends, in another direction, to the 
reverse error. Since he cannot at first detect the deep- 
er and less conspicuous resemblances among things, he is 
liable to omit some of the essential qualities of the class, 
and so to unduly widen its extent, as when he uses the 
word ' fish ' for all animals that live in the water, not not- 
ing the important structural peculiarities that constitute 
the true fish. 

These defects are rectified by the processes of education 
and scientific training. By these agencies the mind is dis- 
ciplined in a more cautious, far-reaching, and methodical 



2 86 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

process of conception. A large number of representative 
instances of the class are now examined. The analysis of 
points of likeness is carried further, so as to be made logic- 
ally complete, that is, adequate for purposes of scientific 
classification. The crowning phase of this logical regu- 
lation of conception is known as definition, or the gather- 
ing up and fixing in precise and appropriate language 
of each of the essential and fundamental attributes of 
the class. 

One other feature has to be noted in this logical treat- 
ment of the concept. We have supposed that the process 
of conception is wholly occupied with disengaging similari- 
ties. But all thinking processes illustrate at once the two 
fundamental intellective functions, discrimination and as- 
similation, though one of these may preponderate, and be 
more conspicuous in particular cases. This applies to the 
formation of general notions. Although in forming the 
concept ' animal ' we are explicitly setting forth similarities 
among diverse things, we are implicitly marking off the 
class from other things (plants and inanimate objects) 
which lack these similar features. The logical manipula- 
tion of the concept renders this apprehension of difference 
explicit and clear. Thus the process of defining a class- 
name includes in its most complete form an examination 
not only of things denoted by the name but also of things 
not so denoted, in order to see what features they are 
wanting in. This consideration of differences becomes a 
prominent feature in the marking off of one idea from a 
kindred yet partially dissimilar idea, as metal from mineral, 
wise from learned, and so forth, a process that plays a 
large part in the definition of general names.* Finally, in 
what is known as logical Division or Classification, where 
things are systematically arranged in higher and lower 
groups, attention is paid at once to points of similarity and 
to points of difference. 

* The marking off of an idea from other ideas tends, according to the 
language of Locke, to make it ' distinct,' whereas the bringing out of the 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 287 

Educational Control of Processes of Abstraction. The problem 
of exercising the power of abstraction and generalisation is attended with 
peculiar difficulties. Children, it is commonly said, delight in the concrete, 
and find abstraction arduous and distasteful. Nevertheless it is certain 
that the young in their first crude spontaneous thought-efforts are much 
given to discovering resemblances among things, and are able to reach a 
certain stage in generalisation. There is indeed a distinct intellectual sat- 
isfaction in discovering similarities among things. A young child's face 
may be seen to brighten up on newly discovering some point of similarity.* 
And to some extent this pleasure may be utilised in training the child's 
powers. His lack of interest in generalities is often due to the fact that 
his mind is not supplied with the necessary concrete examples out of which 
the notions have to be formed.f 

The educator should begin to exercise the child in abstraction and 
classification in connexion with sense-observation. A fine, detailed ob- 
servation of things necessitates, indeed, a measure of analysis and abstrac- 
tion. To see the ball as of a round form is to single out this property for 
special attention. Again, in presenting objects to the child ample use 
should be made of juxtaposition, so that the observer may be stimulated to 
compare one object with another. By thus directly inspecting side by side 
a number of examples of a class, notions of a certain degree of generality, 
as those of the familiar species of animals and flowers, as well as of geo- 
metric forms and numbers, may be gained. The process of generalising 
may be still further aided by a judicious selection of particulars for inspec- 
tion. It is well, as a rule, to set out with good average specimens of the 
class, in which the common characters are conspicuous and not disguised 
by striking individual peculiarities of colour, etc. These would serve as 
typical specimens. After this, extreme instances may be introduced. A 
sufficient variety of instances must be supplied in every case, though the 
number required will differ according to the character of the notion to be 
formed.:]: Throughout this process of calling into play the power of ab- 

several constituent qualities making up the connotation of a name would 
serve to render an idea ' clear.' But the terms clear and distinct as applied 
to our general ideas are not used by all writers in this way. 

* E. g., when a boy (26 months old) watching a clog panting after a 
run, exclaimed with evident pleasure, ' Dat like a puff puff' (locomotive). 

f " There is nothing the human mind grasps with more delight than 
generalisation or classification, when it has already made an accumulation 
of particulars ; but nothing from which it turns with more repugnance 
in its previous state of inanition." — Isaac Taylor. 

X As Dr. Bain points out, a child may obtain a notion of a single prop- 
erty as weight by the aid of one or two instances only, whereas he requires 
a good many examples of the classes metal, plant, etc. {Education as a 
Science, chap. vii. p. 197). 



288 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

straction the teacher should seek to combine the exercise of discrimi- 
nation with that of assimilation. He should invite the child to con- 
trast one chemical substance, one class of plants or animals with another. 
This operation of comparing and classing should be supplemented by 
naming the objects thus grouped together, and pointing out in the form 
of a definition the more important of the traits which they have in 
common. 

The special difficulty in this branch of intellectual training arises in 
connexion with the formation of these notions which cannot be reached 
by a direct inspection of objects. The child is continually hearing words 
which he does not understand. Many of these lie out of his reach, and it 
is well to let him know it. But all instruction must proceed by unfolding 
the meaning of general terms. Here the learner will be called on to per- 
form a process of synthesis, to recombine the results of processes of abstrac- 
tion carried out on objects which he has directly observed. 

The dangers of a slovenly, vague use of words can only be averted by 
seeking to form in the pupil's mind from the outset a habit of making his 
notions as clear and distinct as possible. He should be exercised from the 
first in explaining the words he employs. It is a good rule never to let 
a child employ any word without attaching some definite meaning to it. 
The meaning which he attaches to the word may be far from accurate to 
begin with. But the teacher may be satisfied with a rough approximation 
to accuracy as long as the meaning is a clear one. As knowledge widens 
the teacher should take pains to supplement and correct these first crude 
notions, substituting exact for rough and inexact definitions. 

The problem when to take up the subjects requiring a considerable 
measure of the power of abstraction, such as the physical sciences, gram- 
mar, and so on, is one of the most perplexing ones in the art of education. 
Individuals appear to differ so much in respect of the rapidity of this side 
of intellectual development that no universal rule can be laid down. What 
is certain is that subjects which mainly appeal to the memory and imagina- 
tion like geography and history should precede these which make a large 
demand on the powei's of abstraction and generalisation. There is a psy- 
chological error in attempting to teach the generalities of grammar before 
the mind has been well stored with particulars. It is probable that even 
the rudimentary branches of mathematics, namely arithmetic and geome- 
try, though deriving so much aid from sense-intuition, are apt to be begun 
too soon for the most economic management of brain-power. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the process of abstraction and the formation of concepts, consult 
Sir W. Hamilton, Lectures on Metaphysics, lect. xxxiv. ; Prof. Bain, Men- 
tal Science, bk. ii. chap. v. ; M. Taine, On Intelligence, pt. ii. bk. iv. For 
an account of the early development of the generalising power the student 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT : CONCEPTION. 289 

may turn to Prof. Preyer's work, The Mind of the Child (American trans- 
lation). 

On the practical side of the subject the reader would do well to read 
Locke's valuable chapters on the Imperfection and Abuse of Words, Es- 
say, bk. iii. chaps, ix.-xi. The difficulties of exercising the powers of ab- 
straction and the best means of alleviating these are well dealt with by 
Dr. Bain, Education as a Science, ch, vii. pp. 191-197. The German 
reader should also consult Beneke, op. cit., §§ 26-38. In connexion with 
this subject the teacher should read those chapters in Logic which deal 
with terms and their distinctions, and with division and definition {e.g., 
Jevons, Elemcntai-y Lessons in Logic, iii.-v. and xii.). 



19 



CHAPTER XI. 

PROCESSES OF THOUGHT (CONTINUED) : JUDGMENT AND 
REASONING (KNOWLEDGE). 

Thinking, considered formally or as logic treats of it, 
includes, as we have seen, besides the elementary stage of 
conception, or the process of forming concepts, the more 
complex operations commonly marked off as judging and 
reasoning. Having a concept we may go on to apply this 
to some individual thing or class of things, as when we 
decide that a particular piece of stone is granite, or that 
diamonds are combustible. We are then said to judge, or 
form a judgment. And having framed such judgments we 
may, setting out from these, pass on to others, as when we 
conclude that air has weight because all material substances 
have weight. We are then said to reason. These two fuller 
processes of thinking, which are closely connected one with 
the other, are to be the subject of the present chapter. 

Judgment. 

The Mental Process in Judging. In every -day 
discourse the word judge is used to express the process of 
coming to a decision about a thing, when we do not reason 
out a conclusion explicitly or formally, but apply in a rapid 
and automatic manner the results of past experience to a 
new case. Thus we judge that a man is sincere or insincere, 
that a plan is good or bad, and so forth. For the purposes 
of psychology and logic it is usual to extend the application 
of the term to all those mental operations which underlie 
what is called assertion or predication. We judge in so far 
as we assert something, or, as logicians put it, predicate 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



291 



something of a subject, or are prepared to do this. The 
mental operation here described may provisionally be de- 
fined as an explicit apprehension of a relation between two 
things (or a thing and its quality) as distinguished from a 
mere apprehension of a thing or a class of things. 

This definition of the process of judgment by reference 
to its verbal expression suggests that the two are organic- 
ally connected. And this is the case with all clear and 
explicit judgment. The connection between judging and 
asserting in words is precisely similar to that between form- 
ing a concept and naming. At the same time it is impor- 
tant to note the fact that there is a rudimentary process of 
judging which is prior to and independent of language. 
Thus the lower animals are capable of reaching decisions 
respecting the proximity of their prey and so forth ; and 
the child begins to judge before it can set forth its decis- 
ions in clear articulate propositions. Not only so, we" all 
carry out in connexion with perception implicit acts of 
judgment which do not clothe themselves in language ex- 
ternal or internal, as in determining the size or distance of 
an object, or its position in relation to a second object. 

Looking further at the propositional or worded judg- 
ment, we see that in its common logical form it is made up 
of two representative ideas or notions, which are brought 
into a certain relation one to another. Of these notions 
the one answering to the predicate, or that which is assert- 
ed, is always general. On the other hand, the idea answer- 
ing to the subject may be either a singular or a general 
notion, and in this way we get the distinction of singular 
and universal judgments, e.g., 'This cat scratches,' 'All 
cats scratch.' 

Relation of Judgment to Conception. According 
to the formal or logical view of the matter, judgment differs 
from conception, is more complex, and presupposes it. From 
a psychological point of view, however, which looks at the 
actual processes of thought, we must say that what we call 
a concept has no separate existence. We never say or think 
'man ' out of all relation to other things. Hence the judg- 



292 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ment is the starting-point in thought, and the simplest 
process of thought properly so called. What is artificially 
set out by the logician as a detached concept or element of 
thought is, in reality, the last stage or the product of a 
judgment, or rather of a series of judgments. Since we 
form our general notions by discovering similarities among 
things, and since the clear explicit recognition of a relation 
of similarity is a true judgment, it follows that a rudiment 
of judgment is involved in all conception. 

We may say, then, that the two processes marked off 
by logicians as Conception and Judgment are not essen- 
tially different. As formally distinguishable phases of the 
thought-process they react one on the other. We only 
reach a general notion at all by means of a comparative 
detection of likeness, which, when explicit, is judgment. 
Conversely, since our ordinary judgments involve general 
notions, we may say that it is only after carrying out some 
measure of conception that we are prepared for the higher 
and more elaborate type of judgment. 

Judging a Process of Mental Synthesis. To judge, 
according to logical form, is, as we have seen, to combine 
two notions answering to the subject and the predicate of 
the proposition. Thus when a child judges that his milk 
is hot, or that Pussy is cross, he is, it is manifest, bringing 
the two ideas milk and hot, Pussy and cross, into mental 
juxtaposition, and connecting them one with another. This 
connexion between the ideas or notions involves a repre- 
sentation of an objective relation between the correspond- 
ing things. Thus in judging that his milk is hot the child 
is attributing the quality or state of heat to the thing milk. 
This conscious apprehension of a relation between two 
things is, as was pointed out above, what is known as men- 
tal synthesis. We may say then that judgment is the full 
explicit carrying out of a process of synthesis. 

If we now ask how this process of combining ideas in 
the form of a judgment comes about, we see that it is only 
a further illustration of the three intellective functions, dis- 
crimination, assimilation, and associative integration. Thus 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



293 



every judgment respecting difference or likeness in things 
is but the final outcome of that process of reflective com- 
parison dealt with above. In other words, every detection 
of unlikeness or likeness when it grows clear and explicit 
expresses itself in a judgment of the form, 'A and B are 
like' or 'unlike.' Further, every clear apprehension of 
a relation of time, place, conjunction of qualities in an ob- 
ject, or other mode of contiguous conjunction of presenta- 
tions, issues in a judgment. In this way we obtain such 
forms as: 'A is after B' (in time), 'A is at the side of B' 
(in space), 'A has the quality B.' We may thus say that 
the full reflective carrying out of each of the three intel- 
lectual functions expresses itself in the form of a judgment. 
A word or two by way of illustration of these different di- 
rections of the process of judgment-synthesis must suffice. 
(1) Setting Forth of Relations of Difference and 
Likeness : Identity. After what has been said under the 
head of comparison on the detection of the fundamental 
relations of difference and likeness little need be here 
added. That we bring things into a relation of likeness, 
as when we judge that a violet is like a pansy, that two 
lines are equal (i. e., perfectly like) in length, seems intelli- 
gible enough. It is somewhat otherwise in the case of de- 
tecting difference. Difference does not seem to be a bind- 
ing relation in the same sense as likeness. To see things 
merely as different is to separate rather than to combine, 
and does not give rise to any customary form of judgment. 
Thus we do not think or say that the colour red is different 
from the taste of a walnut, or that roast beef is different 
from an eclipse of the sun. As pointed out above, we do 
not under ordinary circumstances occupy ourselves about 
mere difference. Nevertheless, a large number of our judg- 
ments undoubtedly have to do with the setting forth of 
difference. Thus we are interested in and observe differ- 
ences among homogeneous presentations, as when we say 
two colours differ in respect of hue, intensity, and so forth. 
This establishment of a relation is especially manifest in 
the case of all the more familiar contrasts where, as we 



294 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



have seen, the distinguishing and opposing is fundamental 
and its result fixed by language, as also by special interest 
(cf. above, p. 218). 

Under the general head of relations of likeness and difference come 
relations of quantity. The relations specially set forth in the sciences of 
quantity, arithmetic, geometry, etc., are those of equality and its correlative 
inequality, in its two aspects greater or less. This equality (or inequality) 
may hold with respect to discrete or numerical quantity, e.g., 3 + 2 = 5. or 
to continuous quantity, e.g., " The angles at the base of an isosceles triangle 
are equal to one another." Such equality is plainly likeness in respect of 
quantity or amount. It constitutes the type of perfect likeness. To this 
extent judgments of quantity differ psychologically from other judgments. 
The source of this peculiarity in mathematical judgment, viz., the detec- 
tion of perfect likeness or equality, lies in the very perception of quantity. 
Thus, as is well known, the comparison of two lines in respect of length is 
carried out by means of juxtaposition by which the eye at once sees with 
an approach to accuracy whether the one extends beyond the other. With 
respect to numerical equality an approximately exact type of judgment 
grows out of those processes of number-formation already referred to. 
Numerical equality is equality or equivalence in respect of counting or 
summation of units. 

An interesting modification of the relation of likeness is 
that of identity or sameness. Many of our judgments ob- 
viously have to do with this relation. 

We may here distinguish between what has been called 
" material " identity, that is, the presence in two or more 
things of a common element, as a particular colour, and 
"individual" identity. The former, being a point of like- 
ness, that is, a perfectly similar element, recurring at differ- 
ent times, is opposed to difference of kind. Thus ' the same 
colour ' is opposed to a discernible difference in colour. 
The latter, which is the relation of identity commonly 
spoken of, is opposed to numerical difference or individual 
distinctness. ' The same man ' is opposed to two distinct 
men. 

The germ of identification proper, that is, the identify- 
ing of an individual thing, appears, as we saw, in perceptual 
recognition. Here, however, what we call recognition is at 
first not more than an act of assimilation or the detection 
of a material sameness, e. g., the common presentative con- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 295 

stituents in the group answering to 'mother,' 'dog,' and so 
forth. Before the clear consciousness of individual same- 
ness arises the child must have advanced some way in the 
formation of the idea of the external world as a permanent 
arrangement or system. Thus when he says, 'This is my 
doll,' he must realise not merely that the present presenta- 
tion is materially the same as, that is, perfectly like (in cer- 
tain features), previous presentations, but that it has per- 
sisted in the interval in the sense of having been at any 
moment renewable by fulfilling certain conditions (e.g., 
movement to a particular place). In other words, a judg- 
ment of sameness involves the idea of the temporal con- 
tinuity of our presentations, or their permanent renewa- 
bility. 

When this consciousness of continuous objective exist- 
ence in a particular place (or succession of related places) 
independently of our occasional perception grows clear, the 
child learns, as was hinted above, to recognise a thing as 
the same in spite of considerable difference. Thus he rec- 
ognises the broken toy as the same as the once intact toy, 
just because he realises the continuity of existence under 
the altered conditions. 

(2) Setting Forth of Relations of Space and Time : 
Substance and Cause. In addition to judgments which 
have to do with likeness and unlikeness there are others 
which especially set forth relations of space and time. 
Thus a child observes the position of an object, and sets 
forth the fact, as in saying, ' Puss is under the table ' ; or 
he observes the succession of two events, as when he says, 
' Carlo is gone after father,' and so forth. 

Closely connected with the apprehension of time- and 
space-relations is that of the relation of an attribute to its 
substance (co-existence or co-inherence), as when the child 
says, " The grass is wet." This relation plays so large a 
part in our every-day thought that logicians often speak of 
it as if it were the only relation set forth by propositions. 
The psychological development of the idea of substance as 
the groundwork of the presentative, or, more correctly, the 



296 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

presentative-representative unity which we call a percept, 
has been traced out above. The idea of the substantial 
reality, table, sugar, and so forth, is derived from the ex- 
perience of active touch. When, therefore, we qualify such 
a substantial reality, as in attributing sweetness to the 
sugar, we are connecting the sense-experience underlying 
the idea of sweetness with this fundamental touch-experi- 
ence. As was pointed out above, the relation of co-exist- 
ence here referred to involves at once a temporal and a 
spatial relation. 

One other class of judgments requires to be mentioned 
here on account of their importance and the large place 
they fill in our every-day thought, viz., those which have to 
do with agency, production of effect, or, as it is commonly 
called, causation. 

The apprehension of a causal relation arises in connex- 
ion with that of a sequence of events or occurrences, and 
more particularly such as are of great practical interest 
and immediate, e. g., the succession of pain on a blow. 
The repetition of the succession serves in a way already 
touched on to draw attention to the connexion. 

Among the first instances to be observed by the child 
would be the effects of its own actions. When by a move- 
ment he immediately gains some benefit, as in chafing an 
irritable spot on the skin, he has presented a succession of 
great practical interest, and one which, by repetition, easily 
lends itself to the discovery of a regular connexion. But 
this is not all. The child's movements, even before they 
take on the clearly voluntary character, involve as muscu- 
lar actions palpable changes in his consciousness which he 
can hardly fail to note. It is, indeed, only when we our- 
selves produce an effect by the use of our muscular powers 
that we have a direct consciousness of causal agency so far 
as this involves the idea of force or power. Hence it seems 
natural to suppose that the race and the individual acquire 
their first dim apprehension of the causal relation through 
the observation of their own actions. 

That it is this experience which supplies the crude form 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



297 



of the idea of the causal relation, seems to be shown by the 
fact that the first verbal expression of a causal judgment is 
the setting forth of a conscious action of man or animal, as 
in the proposition, 'The dog barks.' The conclusion is 
further supported by the circumstance that at this stage of 
intellectual development all natural processes are viewed 
as analogous to conscious actions. Thus, the ball 'strikes ' 
just as the child himself strikes, the arrow 'flies' just as 
the bird flies, and so forth. The child is here in much the 
same mental condition as the savage who personifies inani- 
mate objects, regarding them as the source of qtiasi-con- 
scious actions resembling his own. 

This anthropomorphic view of causal agency is further 
seen in the attribution of something analogous to an end 
or purpose to physical actions. "What is the snow sent 
for?" is just as natural a question to the childish mind as, 
" Where does the snow come from ? " A child of two years 
accounted for a pebble in his box of bricks by the suppo- 
sition that it wanted to play with the bricks. In truth, like 
his prototype, the savage, he seems only able to conceive 
of natural phenomena as subserving some purpose, that is, 
as controlled by some volitional agency. 

It may be added that, long after the idea of physical 
causation has been differentiated from that of action for 
end or final causation, the former retains marks of its psy- 
chological origin. We cannot represent natural objects as 
agents save by forms of language which betray a fixed and 
unalterable habit of regarding all changes in our environ- 
ment as a product of ^^/-human action or voluntary move- 
ment. This applies even to the highly abstract conceptions 
of force, energy, and the like, employed by science. 

The development of the idea of causal agency is a slow 
process. In the case of the race and of the individual 
alike we see that the mind remains for a long time satisfied 
with the reference of a comparatively few phenomena, viz., 
those involving personal benefit or injury, to causal agency. 
With respect to the vast majority of the changes in the 
environment, it shows itself incurious. The predominance 



298 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the anthropomorphic view, moreover, tends to confine 
the application of the causal idea to cases where there is a 
discoverable analogy to human action, and more particu- 
larly the movements of things. It is only on the higher 
levels of culture in races and in individuals that a clear 
grasp of causation as a universal relation is attained. 

General Antecedents of Judgment. By help of 
this examination of the customary forms of the thought- 
synthesis we may indicate the more general psychical ante- 
cedents of the process of judging. We judge when our 
attention is specially drawn to a relation of difference, 
likeness, identity, and so forth. Thus a common stimulus 
to judgment is the observation of some change in our sur- 
roundings, as when a child notes that Pussy is dirty, that 
his hat is on the floor (a new relation of place), and so 
forth. 

Next to these presentative conditions of judgment we 
have certain representative ones. It may be said that we 
never judge without making use of pre-existing ideas. 
Even when the child says, ' Puss is dirty,' he must, it is ob- 
vious, be in possession of the idea of dirtiness. The assimi- 
lative function, which runs through all varieties of judg- 
ment, depends on a firm retention of ideas. We cannot 
say 'This tone is a C ' without having in the mind a clear 
standard-idea of that note. Further, the suggestive pro- 
cesses of contiguity and similarity play a large part in the 
formation of our judgments. Indeed, when not immediately 
prompted by a presented relation our judgments are always 
formed by help of suggestion. This applies to all relations 
of time, place, substance, and cause that disclose them- 
selves by means of a process of contiguous reinstatement. 
. While, however, the particular combination of elements 
in a judgment is thus always ultimately conditioned, it in- 
volves in all its more explicit forms an active and selective 
factor. Thus even where the relation is directly presented, 
e. g., in the spatial relation of two simultaneously perceived 
objects, it is evident that the attention must direct itself 
to this relation, and selectively bring it into mental promi- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



2 99 



nence. In many cases, too, this active element becomes 
more marked, as where the complex reproductive processes 
are involved, and associative tendencies have to be con- 
trolled. Thus in answering the question, 'Who was the 
author of a particular work ?' the active element takes the 
form of a volitional control of the suggestive mechanism, 
fixing or keeping before the mind what is helpful, and ex- 
cluding irrelevant suggestions. It is only in special cases, 
where the mind is prepared by a process of preadjustment, 
or where we have to carry out an oft-repeated process of 
judgment, as in answering the question, 'Who wrote Ham- 
let V that this active regulative factor drops out, and the 
process becomes comparatively mechanical. 

Synthetic and Analytic Judgments. Logicians dis- 
tinguish between judgments which combine with the sub- 
ject-notion a new element, as ' iron rusts,' and those which 
simply unfold a part of what was contained in the subject- 
notion, that is to say, of the connotation of the term, as 
4 iron is a material substance.' The first are specially marked 
off as synthetic judgments, while the second are distin- 
guished as analytic judgments, that is, such as subserve 
the analytic setting forth of the constituents of the sub- 
ject-notion. 

This distinction which subserves a regulation of the 
thought-process in conformity with a common standard 
assumes that we all know the full meaning of our terms, 
and use them in the same sense. The psychologist, how- 
ever, who is interested, not in the normal regulation of 
thought according to an objective standard, but in the 
growth of such thought in the individual mind, uses the 
terms analytical and synthetical with reference to the indi- 
vidual's previous knowledge. According to this view, a 
judgment is (psychologically) analytical when it sets ex- 
plicitly forth some element in a pre-existing idea, synthet- 
ical when it adds to this idea. 

Using the terms in this sense, we may say that our judg- 
ments illustrate partly the one, partly the other process. 
Thus general ideas are first formed as an undistinguished 



3<DO OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

complex of marks, and only become distinct or precise as 
the result of successive analyses. In this sense the first 
distinct separating out of a quality, e. g., the colour of an 
orange (' The orange is yellow '), may be called an analyt- 
ical judgment. Again, since all comparison involves anal- 
ysis, every judgment of likeness and difference may be 
said to be, under one aspect, an analytical process. Thus 
if I say that this fruit is a melon, this man is not (/. e., dif- 
fers from) a Hindoo, it must be because in the given pres- 
entation I single out analytically a certain group of marks 
on the ground of which I refer it to, or exclude it from, a 
particular class. On the other hand, all advance in knowl- 
edge illustrates the synthetic function of judgment. Thus 
in the development of our concepts we go on to observe 
new, i. <?., as yet unobserved, features or marks, and join 
these by a synthetic process to previously observed marks. 
In this way our notions of things, e. g., the group of quali- 
ties which constitute a mineral, a plant, become more com- 
plex. Synthesis thus supplements analysis in the forma- 
tion of our ideas of things. 

Judgment and Belief. Our examination into the syn- 
thetic process of judgment has disclosed the fact that 
every judgment involves a psychical element which is best 
marked off as belief. To judge that sugar is sweet, that 
Peter is like John, that the wind causes waves, and so 
forth, is to express our belief or conviction that the relation 
holds of the objective things or realities. 

The presence of belief may be made the test of a genu- 
ine act of judgment. Thus, if ideas are brought together 
by the capricious movements of fancy, as in idle reverie, 
and no belief accompanies the juxtaposition, there is, prop- 
erly speaking, no judgment. Similarly, of course, if we 
repeat mere hearsay, of the truth of which we have no in- 
dividual conviction, or, worse still, state that which we 
know to be uncertain or even untrue. 

The psychological nature of belief is a matter of pe- 
culiar difficulty. Since, moreover, belief includes a refer- 
ence to reality, the discussion of its precise character will 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 301 

come better presently when we consider the psychical as- 
pects of cognition or apprehension of reality. 

Affirmation and Negation : Belief and Disbelief. 

Closely connected with the problem of belief is the dis- 
tinction between Affirmation and Negation. In the pre- 
ceding account of the synthetic process in judgment we 
have supposed that the mind is engaged in establishing a 
connexion, i. e., in positive affirmation. Thus, to think the 
connexion snow-white in the proposition "Snow is white" 
is obviously to affirm the existence of this particular rela- 
tion. The ideas snow and white are in this case conjoined, 
and firmly held together by means of the relation here 
thought of. Hence we speak of the psychical process as 
one of combination or synthesis 

If, on the other hand, I say " This snow is not perfectly 
white," the process of combination is wanting. The two 
ideas are not brought into the relation required for the syn- 
thesis ' Snow is white.' They refuse to cohere as parts of 
a stable thought-synthesis. The relation suggested is, in 
this case, rejected by the mind, and we are said to negate 
or deny the corresponding affirmative proposition. 

It appears to follow that, psychologically, affirmation is 
prior to negation. And observation bears out this conclu- 
sion. The child affirms before it denies. In the case of 
one child whom the present writer observed, who was fairly 
quick in using language, a negative statement was first 
noted some time on in the third year. Children's negations 
are called forth partly by disappointment, of expectation, 
as in noting the absence of a person customarily present 
{e.g., ' Sister not here '), partly through the suggestions of 
other persons. 

When we deny, we express the mental state of disbelief 
or the complete exclusion of the state of acceptance or be- 
lief. Here there is no uncertainty, but the mind is satisfied, 
or convinced, just as in affirmation. The difference be- 
tween belief and disbelief is thus a logical difference rather 
than a psychological one. In saying ' This fruit is not 
ripe ' I am, it is true, rejecting the proposition, ' This fruit is 



302 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ripe,' but I am still in a state of belief with respect to what 
logicians call its contradictory. 

It follows from this relation of belief to disbelief that 
judgment is always, more or less consciously, a process of 
selective decision. In judging that this fruit is ripe I am 
choosing one of two alternatives : ' This fruit is either ripe 
or not ripe.' That this is so is borne out by observations 
of the first implicit judgments of children. Thus, for ex- 
ample, it was observed that a little boy when in his third 
year he began to use the negative form, did so by append- 
ing the negative particle to a kind of self-framed question, 
thus : "A (his name for himself) go in water — no." It was 
further observed in the case of this child and of his sister 
that about the same age they habitually coupled affirmative 
and negative statements, thus : " This I's (my) cup, not 
mamma's cup " ; " This is a nice bow-wow, not a nasty bow- 
wow." The very history of the word judge, indeed, refer- 
ring as it primarily does to the judicial function, i. e., the 
deciding of a dispute, shows how prominent an element is 
this decision in the popular conception of the process.* 

Suspension of Judgment : Doubt. The situation 
just dealt with, viz., the having to choose between two con- 
tradictory statements, gives rise to a psychical phenomenon 
of great importance, that known as Doubt or Uncertainty. 
To reflect, for example, whether or not this coin is a genuine 
antique is, for the moment, to be uncertain. All careful 
consideration of a point raised thus involves at least a 
momentary doubt. Doubt, in its fuller and more intense 
form, appears when the mind remains uncertain after re- 
flexion, and as the result of a full reinstatement of consid- 
erations for and against a point. Such doubt means a 
pulling of the mind in two directions, that is, a state of dis- 
cord or conflict due to the action of two incompatible and 
antagonistic thought-tendencies (forces of association). In 
this case, it is evident, judgment is altogether arrested or 

* The idea of choosing or picking out one of two alternatives is still 
more plainly seen in the Greek term Kplvw (whence Kplrrjs). Cf, the Ger- 
man ur-theilen. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



303 



suspended. It is this state of doubt or uncertainty, and 
not that of disbelief, which is the proper psychological op- 
posite of belief. In belief the mind is at rest, the impulse 
to inquire is satisfied, whereas in doubt, as the etymology 
of the word (dubio, from duo) suggests, we are in a divided 
state, that is, one of conflict, or baffled activity. 

From this slight account of the state of doubt we shall 
expect it to appear much later in the development of intelli- 
gence than belief. Belief is primitive and natural, doubt 
acquired and artificial. Doubt is more complex than belief, 
depending on a recognition of a number of opposing consid- 
erations. Hence a child will much more readily believe or 
disbelieve than doubt. Doubt arises, in the first place, only 
where conflicting facts present themselves in such a way 
that the child can hardly fail to note them, e.g., in seeing a 
favourite fruit and at the same time the signs of rottenness. 
Hence it only fills a considerable place in our intellectual 
life as memory develops and the complexities and apparent 
contradictions of things bringing disappointment of expec- 
tation come into view and are carefully attended to. 

Reasoning. 

Transition from Judgment to Reasoning. Hitherto 
we have been considering judgments, so far as this was 
possible, without any reference to the question whether we 
reach them directly and independently of any process of 
inference or reasoning from previous judgments, or indirect- 
ly by way of such a process. This distinction of ' intuitive ' 
and reasoned judgments is a much more important one 
from a logical, than from a psychological point of view. 
Many judgments which appear to be directly based on ob- 
servation or memory, e.g., ' This is a fossil,' ' I read A's book 
when it came out,' will be found to contain an element of 
inference; on the other hand, a good many judgments 
which can be grounded on other judgments are not, in the 
first place, reached by way of these. Nevertheless, the 
difference does roughly answer to a'psychological distinction. 
For whenever a process of inference precedes judgment the 



304 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



psychical process is by this circumstance rendered a more 
complex one. This applies, for example, to all predictions 
suggested by like remembered experiences. 

It is to be remarked that there is much the same rela- 
tion between judgment and inference or reasoning as we 
found to hold between conception and judgment. Our 
first judgments are intuitive, the element of inference pres- 
ent being implicit only and not distinctly realised in thought. 
As intelligence develops, and thought grows more explicit, 
the differentiation of intuitive and reasoned judgment be- 
comes clearer. When this stage is reached the inferred 
judgment is consciously based on some previous judgment. 
■E.g., ' This picture is a Sir Joshua because it has such and 
such marks.' On the other hand, all judgments thus 
reached by a conscious process of reasoning are capable of 
becoming in their turn starting-points or premises in further 
processes of reasoning. 

The Mental Process in Reasoning. To reason 
implies an intellectual movement, a progressive transition 
from one piece of knowledge to another. It implies, too, 
that the mind accepts or believes in the conclusion thus 
reached through or by means of the premises. In other 
words, the resulting belief is in this case due to a recogni- 
tion of a logical or ' illative ' relation between the new and 
the old judgment. 

In order to ascertain what this relation is let us take a 
simple example of inference from child-life. A boy of two 
sees the steam coming out of his food and infers that it 
will burn him. Supposing the child to draw this conclusion 
with full reflective consciousness, he may be said to go 
through the following steps. He first identifies the pres- 
entation, rising steam, with a past like presentation or pres- 
entations, viz., the appearance of the steam on former oc- 
casions. If he had never had any experience like this of 
the rising steam, he could, it is evident, carry out no 
process of reasoning in this case. But, in the second 
place, in thus assimilating a present presentation to previ- 
ous ones, he goes beyond this particular experience alto- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



305 



gether, and, using it as a mark, infers another and hetero- 
geneous experience, viz., that of the common and tactual 
sensations involved in a burnt mouth. In other words, the 
identificatioti of a presentation carries the child on by a process 
of contiguous suggestion to the representation of 07ie of its most 
interesting and impressive concomitants. 

From the examination of this simple example of reason- 
ing, viz., inferential expectation, we see that it is com- 
pounded of an assimilative process and one of associative 
integration. It differs, however, from the process of asso- 
ciative reproduction described above, since the mind does 
not specially recall and fix its attention on the past experi- 
ence as such, but passes on in the attitude of expectation 
to the idea of a recurrence of this experience in the present 
case.* 

While reasoning is thus in the main an illustration of 
the two intellective functions, assimilation and association, 
it includes also, though in a less obvious way, the third 
function, discrimination. The detection of difference does 
not, indeed, constitute the fundamental part of the process 
as the detection of similarity does. A mere discovery of a 
difference carries us no further. Thus we cannot infer from 
the fact that A is not B that A is wanting in the concomi- 
tants of B. The identification of a common element is thus 
the essential preliminary in reasoning. At the same time, 
the noting of differences is an important auxiliary to it. 
By a discrimination of things we see where resemblance 
ends, what is the exact extent of the similarity disclosed, 
and so grow cautious and exact in our reasoning. Thus, 
by noting the visible difference between a scented violet 
and a dog-violet we check the impulse to expect the sweet 
odour when we see the latter. From which it appears that 
it is the power of detecting resemblances that makes a man 

* Reasoning, like judgment, is at once analysis and synthesis. Its 
analytical character is seen in the selection of the point or points of simi- 
larity in the new cases. Its synthetic character is seen in the fact that like 
mere judgment it always establishes a relation ; the establishment being 
here indirect or 'mediate,' i.e., by help of a pre-existing synthesis. 
20 



306 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ready in reasoning: whereas it is a fine perception of dif- 
ferences which characterises the cautious critical reasoner. 

We see from the above example of reasoning that the 
common supposition of logicians, viz., that the mind starts 
with some known fact or truth as a premise, does not de- 
scribe the process which actually takes place. To begin 
with, in ordinary every-day reasoning the conclusion presents 
itself first. In many cases the grounds or premises of this 
conclusion do not become distinct in consciousness at all ; 
and when they do, it is rather as an after-thought when the 
conclusion reached is challenged by one's own mind or by 
another's words. Here again we must be on our guard 
against taking the logician's account of how our processes 
of thought may be carried on as representing faithfully 
the manner in which they actually take place in ordinary 
cases. 

Implicit Reasoning. The process of inference from 
premise to conclusion, known to inferred fact, may assume 
one of two well-marked forms. In the first place, we may, 
as in the above instance, pass directly from one or more 
singular judgments to another singular judgment without 
clearly setting forth to our minds the ground of our con- 
clusion under the form of a general truth or principle. Thus a 
boy having observed on one or more past occasions that a 
piece of wood floats in water will conclude directly in a 
new instance that a particular piece will float. This im- 
perfect mode of inferring from premises has been called 
reasoning from particulars, and may be marked off as Im- 
plicit reasoning, because, although a basis of inference is 
apprehended under the form of a previous like experience, 
this is not clearly thought out into the form of a general 
ground or universal principle. 

This form of reasoning is the simplest and earliest in 
the order of mental development. The reasoning of the 
lower animals, when it is a conscious transition from some- 
thing already known, as in avoiding a snare after expe- 
rience of its unpleasantness, must be supposed to assume 
this form. Most of the reasoning of children is of this kind 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 307 

too, as when they infer, by analogy (as it is loosely called), 
from the beneficial or hurtful qualities of one thing to those 
of another similar thing, from one person's manner of treat- 
ing them to another's. In all these inferences the mind 
passes from one or more old experiences, some or all of 
which are distinctly recalled according to circumstances, to 
new ones without seizing the general rule or principle in- 
volved in the procedure. And even adults in the large 
number of their every-day practical conclusions reason in 
the same way. 

Practical Judgment : Tact. Closely connected with the crude form 
of reasoning so far considered, viz., direct transition to conclusion without 
distinct apprehension of any ground, and transition with apprehension only 
of a particular analogous case, is what is variously known as practical 
judgment, sagacity, or tact. By this is meant the power of rapidly and 
.only half-consciously adapting previous experiences to new cases without a 
clear representation of the experiences thus adapted. Such a sub-conscious 
type of adaptive inference is apt to show itself wherever the marks from 
which we conclude are numerous, or obscure and difficult to seize, e.g., in 
judging of a person's age, or when the new case is materially different from 
known cases, and could not easily be exhibited as a parallel case, still less 
as an instance of a general rule, e.g.. in judging of a person's fitness for a 
new office. These practical inferences are, to a large extent, the working 
out of an organised associative tendency to think a particular kind of con- 
nexion, e.g., such apian will succeed, such a person is untrustworthy. The 
intellective process is here largely automatic, and has a close analogy to 
action under the impulse of habit, a phenomenon to be considered by- 
and-by. 

Explicit or Logical Reasoning'. It is evident from 
our illustration of the process of implicit reasoning, or 
reasoning from particular instances, that it does virtually 
assume a general truth Thus if the boy in our example 
were not sure of the universal proposition 'All wood floats,' 
he would have no adequate logical ground for concluding, 
' This piece of wood will float.' And when his reasoning 
power develops, and he clearly apprehends what is meant 
by an adequate ground or reason, he will explicitly put for- 
ward this universal proposition as his justification. The 
reasoning may then be said to become explicit, and to take 
on a distinct logical form. In so far as we reflect on our 



3 o8 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



reasoning operations we naturally tend to bring them into 
this form. The capability of carrying out such a logical 
type of reasoning is one of the most important results of 
the possession of general terms, and thus marks off human 
reasoning at its best from animal inference. 

This full explicit process of reasoning by way of a uni- 
versal judgment is commonly said to fall into two parts or 
stages. Of these the first is the process by which the mind 
passes from a survey of particular observations, e.g., ' This 
stone sinks in the water,' ' That stone sinks,' and so forth, 
to the universal judgment, 'All stones sink in water.' This 
is known as Generalisation, and also in its more cautious 
form as Induction. The second stage is the proceeding 
from the universal proposition thus reached to some par- 
ticular case (or class of cases), e.g., from the universal 
proposition, ' All stones sink,' to the proposition, ' This stone 
will sink.' This is known as Deduction. Induction is an 
upward movement of thought from particular instances to 
a general truth, principle, or law ; deduction, a downward 
movement from some general statement to a particular 
statement, or at least a statement less general than the 
first. 

(a) Inductive Reasoning. The psychological process 
in passing from a survey of particulars to a general truth 
illustrates the essential process of all thinking, the detect- 
ing of similarity amid diversity. Let us examine an in- 
stance of inductive reasoning. The child observes that his 
toys, spoons, knives, he himself, and a vast multitude of 
other objects when not supported fall. He gradually com- 
pares these facts one with another and seizes the essential 
feature in them or the general truth implied in them. He 
discovers by comparison and analysis that what all these 
things have in common is that they are material bodies. 
He then extricates this general conception, and along with 
it a particular circumstance, viz., falling to the ground, 
which has invariably accompanied it. That is to say, he 
judges that all material bodies fall, when not prevented. 

The process here briefly described is clearly similar to 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



309 



that of generalisation as entering into conception.* In 
both cases the essential activity of thought is the com- 
paring of a number of single experiences or particulars, 
and the analytical separating out of some common or like 
feature or features. Induction differs from conception in 
the mode of the assimilative unification. In conception we 
trace out similarities in a number of objects viewed as de- 
tached wholes, e.g., particular trees. In induction, on the 
other hand, we are finding out a general relation between 
things, or a similarity in the way in which things are con- 
joined, e.g., the common or general relation of concomi- 
tance between material body and the tendency to fall or 
gravitate. 

It is important to add that the process of induction as 
reasoning involves more than a mere summarising of ob- 
served similarities. The universal judgment, ' All bodies 
gravitate,' is obviously a movement of thought beyond the lim- 
its of observed facts. Just as in forming a class by help of 
the general name the mind implicitly comprehends a vast 
array of individual things not actually observed, so in in- 
duction the resulting judgment embraces an indefinite num- 
ber of unknown cases along with the known. It is only 
because it is thus universally comprehensive that it serves 
its subsequent purpose as a principle of reasoning. 

Development of Inductive Process. The gener- 
alising or inductive process here spoken of presents itself 
in a very crude form at first, and only attains to a more 
perfect form with intellectual development and with the 
discipline supplied by education. Thus, as in the case of 
conception, there is a gradual movement from relatively 
concrete generalisations answering to palpable similarities 
to more abstract generalisations answering to more ob- 
scure, and, in general, more widely-distributed similarities. 
The child, for example, begins to note that some varieties 

* The reader will note the fact that the same word ' generalise ' is used 
so as to cover the two closely related processes, viz., the bringing into a 
general form (a) our observations of objects (conception) and (6) our ob- 
servations of the connexions or relations of objects (induction). 



3 J o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



of living things, e. g., flies or birds, die. He then com- 
pares these results, and, extracting the common relation, 
finds his way to the more comprehensive generalisation 
" All animals die." Later on, he compares this result with 
what he has observed of flowering and other plants, and 
so reaches the yet higher and more abstract generalisation 
"All living things die." 

Again, the development of the inductive process in- 
volves a transition from impulsive, hasty generalisation to 
a more reflective and cautious type. At the outset the 
child is disposed to expect too much similarity in things, 
and he will often generalise from an absurdly inadequate 
range of observation, as when he argues that all children, 
like himself, have a nursery, a rocking-horse, and so forth, 
or that animals feel and act precisely as he himself does. 
As experience widens and intelligence advances he begins 
to note the points of diversity as well as those of uniform- 
ity in events, to make a more extended examination of 
instances, and to take some pains to limit his conclusions, 
e. g., in saying "Some birds eat fruit," "Most birds sing," 
and so forth. In close connexion with the carrying out of 
this wider examination of examples he makes a closer in- 
spection of the events that present themselves, so as ana- 
lytically to detect the essential element with which some 
concomitant is conjoined. Thus, for example, he finds that 
stinging goes with and is dependent upon the possession of 
a sting, and so, instead of generalising as at first, " All in- 
sects sting," learns to generalise more thoughtfully, ' Ani- 
mals with a sting can sting us.' 

This development of inductive reasoning shows itself 
in a much more careful investigation of things with a view 
to discovering their causes (or their effects). The finding 
out of the (common) cause of a phenomenon, e.g., of things 
floating or sinking in water, is one of the main directions 
of inductive reasoning. The young and the uneducated 
are characterised by hasty inference in respect of causation, 
e. g., taking what is the agency in some cases to be the 
agency in all cases, or what is a mere accidental accom- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



311 



paniment to be a part of the essential conditions, or lastly, 
a part of the real conditions for the cause, that is, the 
whole sum of conditions. Here, also, development of rea- 
soning power means a more patient searching out of in- 
stances, and a more careful analysis of a complex of cir- 
cumstances, so as to mark off the essential features on 
which a result really depends. 

(b) Deductive Reasoning. By induction the child 
reaches a large number of general or universal judgments. 
Having these universal judgments as rules or principles; 
he is able to pass on to the second stage of explicit reason- 
ing, namely, deduction, or reasoning from a general prin- 
ciple. Thus a child who has been told that all persons 
are liable to make mistakes is apt to apply the truth by 
arguing that his mother or his governess makes mistakes. 
The type of deductive reasoning when fully set forth in 
its logical form is known as a syllogism, of which the fol- 
lowing is an example : — 

All M is P. Everything made by labour costs money. 
S is M. A toy is made by labour. 
Therefore S is P. Therefore a toy costs money. 

It is evident from this example that deduction, no less 
than induction, conforms to the common type of reasoning 
as explained above. That is to say, it is the indirect estab- 
lishment of a synthesis by help of given syntheses. The 
process sets out with an analysis of the idea of toy and an 
assimilation of it under a particular aspect to certain other 
things, viz., those made by labour. As a result of this 
identification the mind then reaches by contiguous sugges- 
tion the idea of a new concomitant of the toy, the circum- 
stance of its costing money. 

In thus describing the psychological process in deductive reasoning, 
we must, as in the case of implicit reasoning, distinguish between the 
logical order required for purposes of proof, and the actual psychological 
order. In our ordinary every-day deductions we rarely proceed in the 
formal way here set forth, that is to say, setting out with two antecedently 
known judgments or premises and passing on to a third judgment as a 
conclusion. In many cases the conclusion is the first that distinctly pre- 



312 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



sents itself to the mind, and the other judgments rise into distinct con- 
sciousness later. In many other cases, moreover, we do not at any stage 
distinctly think both of the premises logically involved. 

Finding Applications and Finding Reasons. De- 
ductive reasoning may begin at one of two ends. In many 
cases we have a principle given us, and proceed to draw 
conclusions from it. This is known as the application of a 
principle, or the discovery of a new illustration of it. Here 
the mind, taking the principle as a guide, is engaged in seek- 
ing out and assimilating new examples among its store of 
facts. Thus, after a child has learnt that it is bodies lighter 
than water which float on its surface, he proceeds to con- 
clude that the ice which he sees floating is lighter than 
water, or to deduce some as yet unobserved fact, e. g., that 
cork, the lightness of which he notes, wdl float. 

In other cases, we set out not with a general truth but 
with a particular fact, and seek for a principle to which we 
may assimilate it. This is described as finding a reason 
for a statement, or as explaining a fact. Here the psychical 
process is, as in the other case, the search for points of 
similarity. The difference in this case is that whereas when 
we start with the general rule we have the essential feature 
already distinctly set forth, when we set out with the un- 
analysed particular we have to carry out a fuller process 
of analysis. Thus a child when asked to say why an action 
is wrong must, it is obvious, analytically detect the ele- 
ment in the action that brings it under the rule to be re- 
called. 

Reasoning as Activity and as Mechanical Pro- 
cess. From this brief account of the processes of reason- 
ing the reader will see its close dependence on the earlier 
intellectual processes, observation and reproduction. In 
order to carry on a process of reasoning it is necessary 
that our mind be well stored with facts gained either by 
personal observation or by instruction. It is further neces- 
sary that we have a number of clear concepts and clearly 
thought judgments with which these facts may be brought 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 313 

into relation. To this must be added facility in construc- 
tion, in forming new notions and hypotheses. 

Nor will all this avail without a considerable develop- 
ment of voluntary attention and the power of concentrat- 
ing thought on particular ideas and trains of ideas. To 
reason out a thing frequently implies intense and pro- 
longed activity of mind. Thus, in seeking an explanation 
of some obscure fact, say the odd conduct of one of our 
friends, we have to perform an elaborate process of search. 
In carrying this out we need, from the beginning, to keep 
steadily in view the object of this search, that is to say, to 
fix the attention on the particular features of the case 
which require to be assimilated. We have, further, to sin- 
gle out for special consideration from among all the 
thoughts called up by the various suggestive tendencies of 
the moment those which are seen to be analogous to, or to 
have a bearing on, the case. Thus in the instance supposed 
we fix our attention on other actions of the same person, 
or of other persons, on familiar principles of human nature, 
and so forth, in the hope of finding by the requisite assimi- 
lative stroke the key to the puzzle. Not only so, when 
the process is perfect the will is called on to resist the 
tendencies to irrelevant thought, and the influence of feel- 
ing and bias, which, as we shall see, serve to mislead the 
mind from the truth. The greater the concentration, the 
more perfectly the representation of the desired result is 
fixed by the attention so as to dominate all the mental pro- 
cesses of the time, compelling them to converge on this 
result, the higher will be the quality of the reasoning. 

Such a process of active reasoning attended with effort 
is, however, only realised occasionally where the condi- 
tions are new and complicated. In a large part of our 
every-day reasoning the effect of previous practice comes 
in to shorten the process and to reduce it to some extent 
to a sub-conscious and mechanical form, that is, to a pro- 
cess in which the volitional factor becomes evanescent. 
This is an illustration of the principle of Habit already 
touched on. Such a reduction by practice of the factor of 



3H 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



effort and consciousness in general is, as already pointed 
out, the subjective side of a physiological change, viz., the 
more perfect organisation of certain central arrangements. 
In this way the highest processes of the mind are attached 
to an organic base. 

This effect is exhibited most strikingly in the deductive 
processes of reasoning, since it is in these that words play 
an essential and prominent part. Words, as already hinted, 
are capable of being used as substitutes for ideas in many 
of the simpler processes of reasoning. Thus in such forms 
as the following : " Since A is greater than B, and B than 
C, therefore A is still greater than C," a mind practised in 
tracing relations and drawing out conclusions from known 
truths in which they may be seen to be implicated will run 
through the stages of the process in a semi-mechanical 
way. To this it may be added that when the same argu- 
ment has to be gone through again and again this reduc- 
tion of the process to an automatic form becomes still more 
marked. This is owing to the effect of repetition of an 
ideo-verbal series in reducing the individual links in the 
chain to a fugitive and indistinct form {cf. p. 198). 

Logical Control of Thought-Processes. The regu- 
lation of the reasoning processes by logic is carried out by 
developing the functional activities of thought to a more 
explicit or reflective mode of elaboration and expression. 
Thus, in the rules by which the formal correctness of the 
judgment is secured — viz., the choice of perfectly clear and 
unambiguous terms, the bringing out of the quality and 
quantity of the judgment, together with a clear realisation 
of all that is involved in the proposition, excluded by it, or 
left doubtful by it — logic compels the thinker to bring into 
clear consciousness all that he is implicitly thinking in the 
particular case. Similarly with respect to the syllogistic 
rules drawn up in order to secure formal correctness in the 
reasoning process. They aid us by enabling us to arrange 
our thoughts in such a way that we can fully realise all the 
implied relations. 

With respect to material correctness, that is, the corre- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



315 



spondence between thought and real fact, logical control 
seeks to secure its result by insisting on a more exact and 
scientific form of observation, e. g., that secured by an ex- 
periment carried out amid known conditions, and by sup- 
plying certain rules of induction, which may aid us in see- 
ing where a cause is certainly known, and a theory proved. 
Here, again, the regulated type of procedure consists, as 
already hinted, merely in carrying out the first crude spon- 
taneous thought-operation in a more prolonged, patient, 
and cautious manner. 

The whole art of correct reasoning addresses itself in- 
deed to the formation of habits of volitional control. In or- 
der to improve ourselves or others in carrying out these 
processes readily and correctly, what we should aim at is 
the formation of a firm disposition to take pains. That is 
to say, the discipline of the reasoning powers consists in 
training the will so that it may check the promptings of 
prejudice, and of hasty suggestion, look below words into 
their hidden meanings, and resolutely confront statement 
with real fact. The true disciplinary value of logic resides 
in the circumstance that it lays the foundation of these 
valuable mental habits by accustoming the student to a 
careful revisionary examination of his reasoning processes 
in the light of definite rules. 

Self-Consciousness. 

Development of Idea of Self. In the above account 
of the thought-processes we have been concerned with ideas 
of outer things, with perceptual and conceptual knowledge 
of the external world. In addition to our common cogni- 
tion of an external world or macrocosm, there is each indi- 
vidual's cognition of his inner world or microcosm, and 
we have now to examine into the psychological develop- 
ment of this idea or consciousness of self. Self-knowledge, 
it is to be observed, though in its higher forms more ab- 
stract and difficult to attain than knowledge of outer things, 
is, as we shall see, developed along with this, and is indeed 
to some extent involved in a fully explicit logical thought 



316 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

about the world. It is only taken up at this late stage for 
the purpose of simplifying the exposition of the subject. 

(a) The Pictorial or Bodily Self. As pointed out 
above, the first crude idea of a self arises in the child's 
mind in connexion with the perception of his own organ- 
ism. This is from the outset known as an object different 
from external objects, partly by its continuous presentation, 
and still more by its intimate connexion with his painful 
and pleasurable sensations. It is only gradually that he 
attains to this first differentiation of the self from the not- 
self. Thus it has been observed by Preyer that his boy 
when more than a year old bit his own arm just as though 
it had been a foreign object. This first stage of self-repre- 
sentation, in which self is the ever-present body that feels, 
seems to correspond roughly at least to the early period of 
life in which the child speaks of himself by his proper name. 
In this crude idea of self, before the meaning of " I " be- 
comes clear, we have to suppose that the child does not 
fully realise the opposition of self and not-self, but rather 
tends to regard himself as a kind of thing after the analogy 
of other objects. 

(b) The Inner or Mental Self. This pictorial repre- 
sentation of the body remains an integral part of the idea 
of self throughout its development, forming, indeed, its 
fixed presentative base. The next stage in the develop- 
ment of the idea of the ego is the separation of an inner or 
mental self from the body. The child is led on to this by 
a closer attention to his pleasurable and painful sensations, 
more particularly the organic sensations, with their pre- 
ponderant accompaniment of feeling, which play so promi- 
nent a part in early life, and which are known to constitute 
the organic basis of the later self-consciousness. As he 
learns to abstract from outer things and attend to his sen- 
sations, his desires, and his actions, he begins to form a 
dim conception of an inner self. His power of doing 
things when he wishes would be among the most interesting 
of the manifestations of this self, and among the first to 
attract his attention. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 317 

This idea of an inner self would not, however, attain 
any great clearness until the development of the life of 
ideation, as distinguished from the observation of external 
things, had reached a certain point. It is only when this 
inner representative life is sufficiently strong and coherent 
to assert itself against the more powerful stimuli of sense, 
and when as a consequence of this the child begins to 
realise the difference between imagining and actually per- 
ceiving, that he is able to demarcate the self from the 
not-self. 

This attainment of an idea of a self is greatly aided by 
language. The fact that the child is always addressed by 
one and the same name has a powerful effect in impressing 
on his mind the fact of his individuality. Still more effect- 
ive is the use of the second person, you (or thou), in bring- 
ing home to him this idea of himself. By the use of such 
language, as in condoling with the child when hurt, in in- 
quiring as to his feelings, in asking him whether he wishes 
to do something, and so forth, his companions have a very 
powerful means of directing his attention to his inner 
states. 

As the history of the race and of the individual tells us, 
the first conception of an inner self is materialistic, show- 
ing that the objective attitude of thought is still predomi- 
nant. The inner self of the savage and of the child is a 
guasi-ma.teria.1 thing resident in a definite part of the body, 
and more particularly the breast. This materialistic con- 
ception gives way to a more spiritualistic one, as the power 
of reflexion, i.e., isolating attention to psychical states, is 
developed. How difficult this is in early life is known to 
all who have to do with the young. In the case more par- 
ticularly of lively and vigorous children absorbed in outer 
things, and full of active pursuits, the reflexion demands a 
severe effort. Want of outer interest, on the other hand, 
driving thought in on itself, as in the case of many a mor- 
bid, dreamy child, may expedite the process of self-reflex- 
ion. A clearer consciousness of self as the feeling, think- 
ing, desiring subject, is greatly aided by the action of the 



318 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

social environment, as brought to bear, for example, in the 
processes of moral correction. 

{c) Idea of Self as Enduring : Personal Identity. 

All reflexion on self and its states is a kind of retrospection. 
The full consciousness of self as a unity, that is, a perma- 
nent subject, only arises as the power of reproduction de- 
velops. It is by retracing past experiences, and apprehend- 
ing them as a succession in the way explained above, that 
the fuller realisation of the idea of self emerges. Here, 
again, the material base continues to furnish a bond of 
unity. The constant presentative complex, ' my body,' with 
its relatively fixed accompaniment of organic sensation, 
serves as a material nucleus about which the remembered 
experiences grouped themselves as parts of a single life. 
That this is so is seen in the effects of any sudden changes 
in the bodily factors, as in the sense of changed personality 
which accompanies the changes in the appearance of the 
body and of the mass of organic sensations brought about 
by illness. 

This co-ordination of successive experiences, recalled 
by the reproductive process, into the unity of the perma- 
nent self, is never carried out as perfectly as is commonly 
represented. Not to speak of such obstacles to the realisa- 
tion of continuity as the periodic interruptions of sleep 
and illnesses, we may observe that the lapse of years, by 
effacing a large part of our memories, renders anything 
like a complete realisation of identity impossible. Not 
only so, this flux of time brings about profound changes in 
our tastes, aims, and so forth, and in this way serves to 
arrest the endeavour to identify our present with our past 
self. We are the "same " as we were when children more 
through the assurances of others than through our own 
recollective consciousness. 

A final stage in the development of self-knowledge is the 
attainment of a consciousness of a personality, that is, an 
individual character with certain (relatively permanent) in- 
tellectual and moral attributes. The development of this 
cognition evidently pre-supposes the highest exercise of ab- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 319 

stract thought. The history of language tells us that at 
first the mind can only form an idea of a mental or moral 
quality, as sagacity, courage, by reference to some related 
niaterial process, such as the bodily movement which ac- 
companies and expresses the quality. In these first attempts 
to deal with the mental, analogy plays a prominent part. 
Thus the deaf-mute Laura Bridgman, already referred to, 
got at her first idea of the distinctions amiable and unami- 
able by associating each with the analogous effect of feeling 
in the region of sensation, viz., a sweet and a sour apple. 
A full, clear apprehension of such intellectual and moral 
qualities implies that we not merely ' abstract ' in the sense 
of withdrawing attention from sense-presentations and fix- 
ing them on inner states, but 'abstract' in the sense of 
comparing many remembered mental processes so as to dis- 
cover their common aspect. The clear self-knowledge 
growing out of these processes is one of the rarest of attain- 
ments. 

Notions of Others. In close connexion with the 
growth of the idea of self there is developed that of others 
like " myself," having feelings and thoughts as I have them. 
In this way knowledge of things becomes completed by the 
apprehension of a world of sentient and conscious beings. 

The first crude consciousness of self, both in the child 
and in the race, appears to be that of one among a number 
of like beings. The animal and the child no doubt each 
distinguishes his own body from other like bodies by reason 
of the differencing marks already spoken of. Yet, from the 
first, there seems to be an impulse to endow other bodies 
similar to his own with an analogue of his sensations. In 
the instinctive sympathy of animals, in the infant's respon- 
sive smile, we see an interpretation of others manifestations 
of feeling which precedes all definite reflective self-con- 
sciousness. At this stage there is rather a vague conscious- 
ness of self and others, or of self among others, than a 
differenced consciousness of self and of others. 

It is to be added that this primitive impulse to project 
sensation into external bodies extends beyond the limits of 



320 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



the species and of the animal world, embracing plants and 
even inorganic bodies. This is abundantly illustrated in 
that far-reaching personification of inanimate objects, that 
anthropomorphic way of conceiving of nature and its pro- 
cesses, which meets us in what remains of primitive mythol- 
ogies, and which is mirrored in the closely analogous sys- 
tems of nursery-lore {cf. above, p. 251). 

As intelligence develops this first crude thought about 
the world gives place to a more exact conception. The 
differences between things are noted by the child, e.g., 
" me " and the grown-up person, ' me ' and the animal, men 
and animals, and so forth. The attribution of sentinent 
life to other things takes on here more of the character of 
a consciously inferential process. The child now recognises 
definite marks of sensation, inferring the existence of the 
sensation when the marks are present, and refraining from 
doing so when they are absent. In this way it gradually 
reaches a view of the world as made up of grades of ex- 
istence, as the not-living and the living, the animal and 
the man. 

It is to be added that the knowledge of others stands in 
intimate connexion with that of self. On the one hand, as 
we just now saw, it is attention to others' thought of us as 
expressed in words which often leads us to reflect on our 
own minds. On the other hand, a closer attention to our 
own mental states enables us to understand others better : 
we know mankind through self-study. 

Intellection as Knowledge. 

Cognition of Reality : Belief. We have now carried 
the examination of the process of intellection far enough to 
consider it in its relation to its object ; in other words, to 
view our thought under a new aspect, viz., as the cognition 
of something real, i, e., Knowledge. Here, however, we 
shall be concerned not with the philosophical question, What 
is reality ? but with the psychical characters which enter 
into and distinguish the consciousness of reality. 

If now we consider thought under this aspect, we find 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 321 

its most essential and characteristic element to be belief. 
To know a thing as actually existent, to apprehend an ob- 
ject as real, is to be in the state of belief or assurance, belief 
being here understood to include the higher as well as the 
lower degrees of assurance. 

Nature of Belief. The precise psychological nature of 
belief is, to some extent, a matter of dispute. Most writers 
regard it as an intellectual phenomenon. It is evident that 
it has an intellectual aspect. Belief being realisation of 
an idea, i. e., apprehension of reality, in some form and 
with some degree of strength, it follows that it is in one 
important respect a manifestation of intellect. Viewed 
in this way the term belief serves to mark off the objec- 
tive attitude of ideation or thought, or, in other words, 
the fact of its representativeness. When I think, for ex- 
ample, of gold, I represent the thing gold as really existent, 
and as having such and such properties. 

At the same time, as pointed out above, belief involves 
an element of feeling: when we believe we are satisfied or 
at rest. Hence the common forms of speech : " I feel sure," 
and more elliptically : " I feel it must be true." 

Lastly, it is recognised that belief stands in a close and 
organic connexion with conation or action. To believe is 
to be ready to act. Thus to be satisfied that the weather 
is changing, that a man is honest, and so forth, is to be 
prepared to act on the assurance. Here, indeed, we 
may easily see that the state of assurance is immediately 
attended with nascent promptings to act, e. g., to walk 
out, to trust the man. This forward aspect of belief, as 
readiness to act, is especially manifest in all forms of ex- 
pectation. 

Belief being thus a compound of three factors — intellect- 
ual representation, feeling, and active impulse — a com- 
plete account of the genesis of belief would include an 
examination into each of these constituents. Since, how- 
ever, we have not yet examined into the workings of feel- 
ing and conation, we must at this stage dwell mainly on 
.the intellectual factor in belief, merely indicating by way 
21 



322 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of anticipation how the other influences complicate the 
process. 

I. Intellectual Conditions of Belief : (a) Belief and 
Ideation. The primal source of belief lies in the relation 
of representative ideation to actual presentation. We as- 
sume here that what we call the real is presented in sense- 
perception, that when we speak of a real object we refer 
to the experience of direct sensuous apprehension, and more 
particularly that of sight and touch (cf. chap. vii.). Now 
we have seen that our mental images are derived from and 
representative of percepts. Hence to imagine is to repre- 
sent an object actually existing, as we should apprehend it 
in sense-perception. This reference in ideation to the im- 
mediate grasp of reality in perception is specially manifest in 
the reproductive processes, in which the revival of an image 
is at once attended with what we call recognition or remem- 
brance, that is, the recalling of a past percept as past. 

This same implication of belief in ideation is seen in 
the freer processes of imagination. Hume drew a sharp 
distinction between merely imagining and believing. We 
may picture a centaur or a hobgoblin without believing in 
its actual existence. Yet all imagination, just because it 
is only a further product of perceptual experience, carries 
with it a tendency to momentary belief. And if only the 
image is vivid and sufficiently coherent and stable, it as- 
sumes the form of a representation of a reality, that is to 
say, of an object existent in the external world. This 
tendency to give reality to images is abundantly illustrated 
in the beliefs of the savage and the child in the existence 
of supernatural beings. It is further illustrated in the 
fact that Dickens and other novelists have, through a 
vivid and protracted imagination of their characters, been 
subject for a time to a firm persuasion of their real ex- 
istence. 

The belief here referred to is vague and inchoate only. 
The reality more or less distinctly apprehended is not 
placed in a world of connected parts in space and time. 
The naive fancy of the savage and the child, at its best, 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 323 

localises Its supernatural fictions in remote space and re- 
mote time, e.g., in prefacing a story with the words : " Long, 
long ago," " Far, far away." Such belief, moreover, is in 
normal circumstances momentary only, being immediately 
corrected by reflexion. This is illustrated in the way in 
which the child arrests and corrects the illusory tendency 
to believe in its doll as alive, as when like the savage it is 
overtaken with a sceptical revulsion and dashes its idol to 
the ground. We have now to pass to a more definite form 
of belief: that which accompanies the complete process of 
synthetic thought or judgment, and depends upon an asso- 
ciative connexion of ideas. 

(l>) Experience and Association. It is commonly 
admitted that the great source of all definite connective- 
belief is experience and association. Reality is given us 
in our common sense-experience as a tissue of connected 
parts, e.g., qualities conjoined in things, a succession of 
connected changes in things. These connexions in our 
presentative experience determine by the processes of asso- 
ciation the order of our representations. We may say, 
then, that all belief tends to take on the form of an appre- 
hension of an objective connexion or relation, which rela- 
tion is suggested by a process of reproduction. 

As pointed out above, the process of contiguous asso- 
ciation is that by which the order of our ideas is assimilated 
to that of our perceptual experience. Hence contiguity is 
the main intellectual factor in belief. To realise an idea 
by setting it in definite relations of space and time is only 
possible through the workings of contiguous association. 
This was illustrated above in the case both of memory and 
of expectation. 

Both memory and expectation have to do with the actual present as 
their starting-point. Now we have seen that belief in reality has refer- 
ence to an actual perceptual experience. We may thus say that both the 
recollection of a thing and the anticipation of a thing as a mode of assur- 
ance are effected through the connexion of an idea with the actual presen- 
tation of the moment. And the closer this connexion, the stronger is the 
belief. Our confidence in that which has just been experienced is of the 
very strongest ; and, as we shall see presently, the same applies to that 



324 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



which is suggested by the present as immediately about to happen. The 
effect of actual objects in aiding belief in the images immediately asso- 
ciated with these, as illustrated in the service of a ground-work of sense- 
reality, e. g., a toy, to the fiction-building of children, as also in the value 
of religious symbols in furthering a realisation of the unseen, and of per- 
sonal relics as helping us to recall the reality of the past, is due to this 
circumstance. 

In the case of expectations we have the phenomenon 
of inferred or inferential belief. This, as implied in what 
has gone before, depends on the firm establishment by- 
means of certain given presentations or representations of 
a particular ideational connexion or structure. Thus, in- 
ferring from known instances of thunderstorms that an- 
other thunderstorm is coming on, my new inferential belief 
arises through the inevitable reinstatement of a particular 
expectation by a given group of recollections. 

It follows from this view that the strength or intensity 
of such an inferred expectation will depend on the vivid- 
ness and stability of the reinstated ideational connexion. 
Thus it is strengthened by all that tends to secure vivid 
reinstatement, as the exciting character of the original im- 
pression. For a like reason, the expectation of an event 
which stands in close temporal proximity to the actual 
present, being more vivid than that of a remote conse- 
quent, will be attended with a stronger or more lively 
assurance. 

Next to such conditions of vivid reproduction we have 
the great force of repetition. We have seen that the 
strength of association varies (ceteris paribus) with the 
amount of repetition, and with the degree of uniformity of 
the connexion. This effect of repetition and uniformity is 
seen in the stability of all thought-connexions which answer to 
recurring and i?ivariable conjunctions, e. g., signs with their 
significates, causes with their effects, and so forth. And 
it is here that we see inferential belief at its strongest. 
Thus we have the fullest assurance that sea-water is salt, 
that rough and hard substances hurt, and so forth. 

Verbal Suggestion. Closely connected with the ef- 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 325 

feet of experience and contiguous association on belief is 
that of verbal suggestion. The instant excitation of a 
more or less distinct belief by another's word, e.g., when a 
man shouts 'Fire ! ' illustrates the force of words in rein- 
stating vivid ideas. The peculiarly close connexion of 
words and ideas is, as already pointed out, the effect of 
great frequency and perfect uniformity of associative con- 
junction. To this it must be added that every connected 
form of words or verbal statement presents itself to us as 
the direct expression of another's judgment and convic- 
tion. Hence the tendency to accept another's statement 
automatically and quite apart from any process of 'weigh- 
ing testimony.' The combination of words in this case 
serves to effect in the hearer's (or reader's) mind the cor- 
responding combination of ideas, and so to excite a nas- 
cent belief in the reality. We see this effect of verbal sug- 
gestion in the common superstition that to talk of death 
or other calamity is to invite its occurrence, as also in the 
tame acceptance of traditional statements which the least 
reflexion would show to be untrue, and in the momentary 
tendency to believe even what we half discern to be an 
extravagant assertion. 

II. Effect of Feeling on Belief. While belief is thus 
in the main the product of the intellectual mechanism, it 
is powerfully affected by the feelings and desires. There 
is no such thing as a perfectly cold belief into which no 
feeling enters. We must be interested in a truth if we are 
to give it our full conviction. Our strongest beliefs are 
those which connect themselves closely with self and its 
interests. The immense influence of this affective element 
in belief is illustrated in the way in which it tends to coun- 
teract or overpower the intellectual tendencies. In the 
unregulated beliefs of the uneducated this setting aside of 
thought by feeling is habitual. Thus, in the superstitious 
beliefs of the savage in the reality of that which strikes 
the imagination and awakens fear, in the tendency of the 
vulgar to believe in the miraculous, in the impulse which 
we all experience to believe that which we wish for, and in 



326 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

all that is known as prejudice and bias, we see illustrations 
of this disturbing influence of feeling. 

This action of feeling on belief is in every case me- 
diate ; that is to say, it works by modifying the processes of 
ideation themselves. It is by giving preternatural vividness 
and stability to certain members of the ideational train 
called up at the time, e. g., ideas of occurrences which 
we intensely long for, or specially dread, and by deter- 
mining the order of ideation to follow not that of ex- 
perience but that which answers to and tends to sustain 
and prolong the feeling, that its force serves to warp be- 
lief, causing it to deviate from the intellectual or reason- 
able type. 

It follows that when belief is thus sustained by feeling 
the decline of feeling will tend to undermine the belief. 
This result is seen in the occasional lapse of religious and 
other beliefs through the cooling of emotional fervour. 
The imagination, wanting its emotive stimulus, fails to rise 
to the needed point of vividness. The mind loses its hold 
on the reality and falls into a depressed state of doubt. 
Certain organic disturbances bringing about a lowering of 
feeling are known to diminish the firmness of mental grasp, 
an effect which in extreme and morbid cases may reach to 
a loss of the sense of reality even with respect to objects 
which are directly perceived by the senses. 

III. Belief and Activity. As was observed just now, 
belief stands in a peculiarly close relation to activity. In 
most cases at any rate it involves the incipient excitation 
of impulses to look out for a particular result, and to fol- 
low a particular line of action. 

Owing to this organic connexion with action, belief may 
be influenced by strengthening the active element. Thus, 
as we all know, an eagerness to do something tends to 
favour the belief that would justify us in doing it, e.g., 
our power to accomplish our purpose, the Tightness of the 
action, the worthiness of the object, and so forth. Hence 
in the case of the young, who are characterised by great 
strength of active impulse, belief is generally in excess of 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 327 

the teachings of experience* Doubt and hesitation, on the 
other hand, only arise where these impulses are in a meas- 
ure toned down by the lessons of experience. The contirst 
which thus shows itself in the case of eager youth and cau- 
tious age discloses itself in a less marked way in the case 
of the practical and the speculative mind. The former, 
strongly urged by his active impulses to act and therefore 
to decide somehow, is impatient of uncertainty and only 
happy when he has a definite and strong conviction ; the 
latter may be said to live in an atmosphere of uncertainty, 
and in extreme cases, as that of Coleridge, where ideation 
is wholly divorced from practical impulse, hardly to know 
what full intense conviction means. 

Logical Control of Belief: Knowledge. In the 
foregoing account of the several factors in belief we have 
been occupied merely with its primitive or instinctive form. 
We have now to see how the process of logical thought 
serves to transform this crude type of belief into that 
reasoned or systematised form, which we call knowledge. 

As we have seen, logical, that is, fully explicit thought, 
proceeds by clearly setting forth our judgments in a verbal 
form, and in tracing out their logical relations, consistency 
and inconsistency, and dependence of conclusion on pre- 
mise. The expression of a belief in a definite propositional 
form is itself an important step in the direction of reflect- 
ive or rational conviction ; for the belief when thus ex- 
pressed is in a manner objectified,/. <?., thrown into the form 
of an object which calls our own attention to itself as well 
as invites the critical inspection of others. 

A yet more important step is taken in the logical or- 
ganisation of belief when thought explicitly assumes a gen- 
eral form, that is to say, proceeds by way of a universal propo- 
sition. When, for example, the child first begins to realise 
the universal truth that all living things die, his belief in 
the fact of death undergoes, through the very apprehension 

* Dr. Bain calls this early tendency to believe in advance of experience 
' primitive credulity.' 



328 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the truth as universal, a considerable increase both in 
respect of extent or range of object and in respect of in- 
tensity or certainty. By the systematising of such univer- 
sal propositions in what is known as Science our beliefs 
attain a certain degree of systematic co-ordination or or- 
ganisation into a consistent and compact structure. 

In this organisation of a stable structure belief does not 
change its nature, but only its form. Reality is still deter- 
mined by the direct presentations of sense. And the ob- 
servations of sense, when scrutinised and reduced to pure 
observations and otherwise rendered exact by scientific 
method, remain the ultimate test of all theory. Thus belief 
in its most speculative flights is always harking back for its 
verifying resting-place to the lowly but firm territory of 
sense-perception. 

The transformation of primitive belief by this rational- 
ising process of thought is seen in a striking way in the 
change it effects in the original disposition to believe, to 
accept statements as true. The primitive mind is credu- 
lous : it casts itself confidently on the first suggestion of 
the moment. Thus the mere hint that something is going 
to happen induces expectation. The development of expe- 
rience and thought tends to substitute a more cautious, 
critical attitude for this credulous one. Through the dis- 
appointment of expectation and the contradictions of life 
there is developed in the thoughtful man a slowness to be- 
lieve. This cautious attitude shows itself in what we com- 
monly describe as a man of "judgment." Much the same 
result is seen in the effect of scientific discipline. The 
investigator into nature's processes has in his pre-existent 
knowledge a criterion by which he judges of the truth of 
any new theory ; and he is disposed to accept only that 
which harmonises with, and can be taken up into the 
structure of, this pre-existent knowledge. 

Knowledge as Social Product : The Common 
Mind. Along with this co-ordination of partial knowledges 
into a total organised knowledge there goes another pro- 
cess, viz., the logical adjustment of individual to common 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



329 



beliefs. What is meant by knowledge in its complete sense 
as apprehension of reality always has reference to such a 
community of intelligences, or a system of individual minds 
capable of comparing their ideas one with another, and so 
developing them into the form of common cognitions. 
This mutual adjustment of personal belief into a system of 
common cognition is carried out by the mechanism of lan- 
guage. 

We see this sociality of knowledge in the simplest form 
of apprehension of reality, viz., sense-perception. The ob- 
jective character of an individual's percept, say the visual 
apprehension of a star, involves the agreement of his per- 
cept with that of others under similar conditions of place, 
time, etc. Whatever else ' the real world ' may mean, it 
certainly includes the fact of a common sense-experience. 
Hence it is only as the child's consciousness of itself in its 
solidarity with others grows clear that it clearly appre- 
hends the external world as real or objective. 

Much the same thing is observable in the later forms of 
belief which accompany the development of ideation and 
logical thought. Thus, in the process of reproducing past 
experiences, we compare our recollections with those of 
others who have taken part in them and so acquire a much 
firmer grasp of the reality recalled. In general or con- 
ceptual thought, again, a like process of social adjustment 
is carried out. Thus the very employment of a common 
language has for its purpose to bring the concepts of each 
into agreement with those of others; and this process of 
social adjustment is perfected by a more precise fixing of 
the conceptual standard through logical definition. Simi- 
larly with propositions. The embodiment of our belief in 
a propositional form is the means by which it enters into 
that organic structure which we call common knowledge. 

The process of socialising belief or assimilating it to a common type 
leads on to the solidification of a mass of generally accepted propositions 
in the form of quasi-mtvatioris, that is, independent or self-evident con- 
victions. The processes by which these common beliefs were reached 
come in time to be forgotten, and they take on the appearance of original 



330 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

or intuitive beliefs. Thus the generally accepted principle that changes 
are brought about by causal agency has long since taken its place, with 
the more thoughtful at least, in this firm substratum of common cognition. 
In addition to the principles which underlie speculative thought, there are 
others which lie at the base of practical thought, e. g., the belief that life 
is good, that it is right in general to pursue our own interest, and so forth. 
In these fundamental convictions, which have been named by certain phi- 
losophers Common Sense, we see the most striking example of the solidi- 
fication of a common type of belief. 



Authority and Individuality in Belief. This mass of 
consolidated belief works as a powerful influence on the 
development of the individual mind. It is highly probable 
that in the case of the more fundamental part, or at least 
that which has been longest fixed, the individual inherits in 
the constitution of his brain a disposition to take on these 
particular forms of ' intuitive ' belief. However this may- 
be, the forces of tradition, including all that is meant by in- 
struction, are a powerful agency for assimilating individual 
belief to the common type. If we bear in mind the su- 
premacy of this agency in early life, when most of the in- 
dividual's convictions are acquired, we may easily see how 
much tradition has to do with the formation of the beliefs 
of each one of us. 

The conscious action of the community on the indi- 
vidual through the traditional agencies of instruction gives 
rise to what is known as the claims of authority. Thus, 
in science, in morals, and in religion, we see the tendency 
on the part of the community or the majority to require 
the individual to conform his beliefs to the common 
standard. 

With the precise logical validity of these claims we are 
not here concerned. That the requirement is a just one 
within certain limits is evident, and follows, indeed, from 
our conception of reality as that which is valid for all. A 
disregard of others' experience, which collectively reduces 
our own to very small proportions, and of the common 
forms of thought in which the experience of the race has 
formulated and conserved itself, whether in the truths of 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



331 



science, or in the wisdom of practical life, would be absurd 
presumption. 

At the same time, these claims of authority are when 
unduly pressed opposed to what is known as individuality 
of conviction, the impulse to think out our knowledge for 
ourselves from the particular data of our own experience, 
The collision of the two impulses to assimilate our convic- 
tions to the common pattern, and at the same time to re- 
alise them by a clear process of individual experience and 
reflexion, gives rise to a new psychological type of belief, 
viz., belief which we realise as ours through a process of self- 
conscious reflexion. Our cognitions first form themselves as 
common cognitions, and the child says (or thinks) "We 
know " before it says "I know." It is only as the dis- 
crepancies of experience and of conviction emerge, and the 
collision of the individual with the common thought is felt, 
that our belief becomes in this sense fully self-conscious. 

Belief and Knowledge : Philosophy of Cognition. The psycho- 
logical relation between individual and common belief here set forth is 
indicated to some extent in the current forms of language. In the popu- 
lar use of the term, belief is not co-extensive with knowledge. The word 
rather marks off a particular sphere of conviction. To begin with, belief 
is commonly regarded as below knowledge in point of surety or certainty. 
We are wont to say " I know " when we are in the highest region of the 
scale of certainty, whereas we fall back on the form " I believe " when we 
are not quite positive. Again, since agreement of belief with that of oth- 
ers is in general taken as the criterion of certainty, it follows that when 
we find ourselves differing from others we are apt, through modesty at 
least, to speak of belief rather than of knowledge. To say " I know " in 
the face of another's explicit disagreement savours of presumption and 
conceit. Lastly, knowledge in its popular contra-distinction to belief 
means that which has been carefully reflected on and thought out info a 
clear rational form. Belief is blind ; knowledge is clear-sighted ; belief is 
instinctive, a matter of feeling ; knowledge is carefully reasoned out and 
seen to be inevitable or necessary. This is clearly brought out in the com- 
mon opposition of religious faith and science. 

The psychological discussion of the distinction between belief and 
knowledge naturally leads on to the philosophical problem of the nature 
and validity of knowledge. The relation between the two, already touched 
on in connexion with perception and the nature of the concept, may be 
illustrated by a few additional remarks. 



332 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

As already indicated [cf. p. 12), the philosophical or "epistemo- 
logical " problem considers knowledge objectively in respect of its reality, 
while psychology considers it subjectively as a mental process. The truth 
or falsity of the intellectual phenomenon which we call a cognition is a 
matter of indifference to the psychologist ; illusory perceptions are as much 
perceptions, i. e., particular psychical phenomena, as true ones : the most 
absurd delusion of a maniac is of equal value with a perfectly rational be- 
lief for the psychologist's purpose. 

The properly philosophical inquiry into the ultimate nature and con- 
ditions of knowledge set out, not unnaturally, with a consideration of its 
mental source or origin. A mere glance at our ordinary processes of cog- 
nition suggests that there are apparently two such sources, viz., the senses 
and thought or reason. The knowledge drawn from these seems to be 
different, the former telling us only of the particular which comes and 
goes, the latter of the universal and the immutable and necessary, e. g., 
the law of causation. The first impulse of philosophy, following this 
common-sense distinction, was to erect reason into a special and superior 
source of knowledge, and to regard it as an essential factor in all true or 
valid cognition. This tendency is known as Rationalism or Intuitionalism, 
the word ' intuition ' being used -to mark off the alleged immediacy and 
certainty of this rational cognition. Opposed to this is the tendency to 
refer all cognition back to sensation, to regard it as essentially particular 
or ' contingent ' (i. e., not-necessary), and as assuring us only of the facts 
of our common sense-experience, viz., sensations, and, as seems to be 
allowed also, the observable temporal juxtapositions of these. This tend- 
ency is known as Sensationalism, Experientialism (or empiricism), and 
more recently (owing to the part assigned to the laws of association) Asso- 
ciationalism. 

The dispute first directed itself to the question of the existence of cer- 
tain ' innate ideas.' The significance of this dispute turns on the suppo- 
sition of the intuitionists that an original idea, not traceable to experi- 
ence, is implanted in the mind by the Creator and so carries its own valid- 
ity on its very face. In its earlier form the controversy appeared to con- 
cern itself with the date of the appearance of these ideas. Here, it is 
evident, the philosophical discussion encroached on the psychological do- 
main. In its later or more guarded foi-m, however (particularly as shaped 
by Kant), the intuitionalist has differentiated his problem much more 
clearly from those of psychology. It is now made plain that, according 
to intuitionalism, the mind does not at birth possess ready-made intuitions ; 
that, on the contrary, the materials of experience as supplied by the senses 
are necessary to the proper development of these intuitions. What the 
modern intuitionalist does assert is that these materials, even when supple- 
mented by the processes of association, do not constitute what we mean 
by cognition, that in order to its constitution the mind must contribute its 
own proper a priori forms, and its own synthetic activity. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



333 



In approaching this question it seems certain that a psychological ac- 
count of cognition, though distinct from the philosophical solution of 
knowledge, prepares the way for this. Thus the psychological theory of 
sense-perception, and of general ideas, by deriving the intellectual prod- 
ucts from sensations as their psychical elements, suggests that the knowl- 
edge reached may represent and refer to these sensations : and indeed we 
find that the philosophical question has in this country more particularly 
assumed the form : Is cognition more than our assurance of particular se- 
quences of sensation ? The same thing is true of that modification of 
experimentalism introduced by the modern doctrine of evolution. In the 
transmitted products of ancestral experience with which certain evolution- 
ists (e. g., Herbert Spencer) endow the child, we have, it is evident, a 
psychological counterpart of the subjective factor of the intuitionalist. So 
far the doctrine appears to supply a reconciliation of the two opposed phil- 
osophical views. Yet in truth the philosophic problem remains, assuming 
now the form of the question : Is the mere play of sense and association, 
hozvever far extended through generatious of ?>ien or species, competent to 
the production and maintenance of hnozo/edge, i. e., the cognition of things 
as real, and as bound together by universal relations ? * 

Training of the Powers of Judgment and Reasoning. To 
train a child's power of judging is to exercise him in framing judgments 
by inviting him to observe and describe an object, to narrate something 
which has happened to him, to repeat carefully what he has heard, to sub- 
mit propositions for his acceptance and rejection, and so forth. Here the 
educator should aim at caution and accuracy of statement. The tendency 
of children to exaggerate needs to be carefully watched and counteracted. 
The child should be accustomed to think well about the words he uses, to 
see all that is implied in them, as well as all that is contradicted by them. 
At the same time it should be remembered that children delight in vivid 
and picturesque statement, and that a touch of exaggeration is perhaps 
pardonable. 

A main problem in the training of the judgment is to draw the line 
between excessive individual independence and undue deference to author- 
ity. The power of judgment is, as we have seen, more fully exercised 
when the child forms an opinion for himself than when he passively re- 
ceives one from his mother or teacher. Accordingly, the educator has to 
aim at drawing out the child's power of judging about things for himself. 
This can be very well done in certain regions of observation, as, for ex- 
ample, in judging with respect to simple matters of taste. On the other 
hand, it is obvious that with respect to certain subjects the child's liberty 
of judging must be curtailed. It would not do to allow a young child 

* On the nature of the philosophical problem of knowledge the reader 
may consult Prof. Seth's article " Philosophy " in the Encyclop. Britann. ; 
also Prof. Fraser's Introduction to the Selections from Berkeley. 



334 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



with his limited experience to decide what is possible or probable in a case 
of great complexity ; and still less to permit him in all instances to pro- 
nounce on the Tightness or wrongness of an action. To combine the ends 
of authority and of individuality in respect of judging requires much wis- 
dom and skill in the trainer of the young. 

The training of the Reasoning Powers must go on hand in hand with 
that of Judgment. In the earliest stage (from about the beginning of the 
fourth year) the mother is called on to satisfy the child's curiosity or desire 
for explanation. This period is an important one for the subsequent de- 
velopment of the child. Parents are apt to think that children not infre- 
quently put questions in a half-mechanical way, without any real desire 
for an explanation, and even for the sake of teasing. It seems, however, 
to be a good rule to give an explanation wherever a simple one is possible, 
provided, of course, that the knowledge is not attainable by the child's 
own intellectual exertions. This is Locke's advice : ' Encourage his In- 
quisitiveitess all you can by satisfying his demands, and informing his 
Judgment, as far a sit is capable' {Some Thoughts concerning Education, 
§ 122). It may be even well at first to descend to the child's level and 
to try to look at the world through his own anthropomorphic glasses. The 
forces of nature may be personified and so her simple processes (e. g., the 
exhalation of vapour and its condensation in rain) presented to the child 
in a form which is not only intelligible but which is certain to interest him 
by its picturesqueness. 

The training of the reasoning powers includes, however, more than 
the answering of the child's spontaneous questionings. The learner must 
be questioned in his turn as to the causes of what happens about him. 
The educator may in this way help to fix a habit of inquiry. 

The systematic training of the reasoning powers must aim at avoiding 
the errors incident to the processes of induction and deduction. Thus 
children need to be warned against hasty induction, against taking a mere 
accidental accompaniment for a condition or cause, against overlooking 
the plurality of causes and the like. In like manner the teacher should 
seek to direct the young reasoner in drawing conclusions from principles 
by pointing out to him the limits of a rule, by helping him to distinguish 
between the cases that do and those that do not fall under it, and by 
familiarising him with the dangers that lurk in ambiguous language. In 
this more methodical training the educator will be greatly assisted by a 
knowledge of the rules of Logic. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the processes of thought and the psychological treatment of knowl- 
edge, see Spencer's analysis of reasoning, Principles of Psychology, vol. ii. 
esp. chap. viii. ; also Ward, article "Psychology," Encyclop. Britann., p. 
75 ff. ; Lotze, Aficrocosmus, bk. ii. chap. iv. ; and Hoffding, Outlines of 
Psychology, v. D. 



PROCESSES OF THOUGHT. 



335 



In connection with the practical side the student should read Locke's 
little work Conduct of the Understanding (edited by Prof. T. Fowler). He 
should further master the elements of deductive and inductive logic as 
expounded in such a work as Prof. Jevons' Elementary Lessons. Finally, 
on the application of Logic to Educational Method the student may con- 
sult (in addition to the chapter in Jevons' Elementary Lessons) Th. Waitz's 
Allgcmeine Padagogik, § 22. 



PART IV. 
THE FEELINGS. 



CHAPTER XII. 

feelings: simple feelings. 

Having now reviewed the successive stages of the de- 
velopment of intellection or cognition, we may pass on to 
consider the development of the second of the three phases 
of mind, namely, the affective phase or feeling. 

The Feelings and their Importance. As already 
pointed out, we include under the head of feeling all psy- 
chical phenomena so far as they have the element or aspect 
of the agreeable or the disagreeable. This preliminary rough 
demarcation of the region of feeling may help us to see its 
peculiar significance as a main constituent of our mental 
life. 

To begin with, feeling marks off the interesting side of 
our experience. External objects only have a value for us 
when they touch our feelings. Mere cognition of an object 
may leave us cold, but the appreciation of its beauty, in- 
volving a wave of pleasure, warms and thrills us. It is 
evident that what we mean by happiness, and its opposite, 
unhappiness or misery, is made up of elements of feeling. 
We are happy so far as we are the subject of pleasure, un- 
happy so far as the subject of pain. Our estimate of things 
and of human life as a whole will thus depend on those in- 
gredients of our experience which come under the head of 
feeling:. 



THE FEELINGS. 



337 



Again, feeling is subjective experience par excellence. In 
all perception of, and all thought about, objects we are in 
the "objective attitude," that is, representing a world of 
common cognition. Our actions, too, involve changes 
carried out in the external world, and so have an objective 
aspect. But our feelings, save in their external manifesta- 
tion, are all our own. To be affected by joy or by sorrow, 
to fear or to hope, is to have an experience which we de- 
tach from the object-world and refer to the subject-world 
or self. Feeling in all its higher and developed forms stands 
in close connexion with self-consciousness. 

While feeling has thus a special intrinsic interest as a 
subject of study it has a further intrinsic interest because 
of its bearing on the other aspects of our mental life. The 
interactions of feeling on the one side with intellection and 
conation on the other will be more fully considered by-and- 
by. Here it will be enough to say that the cultivation of 
the feelings stands in close organic connexion with that of 
intelligence. To develop the powers of observation and of 
thought is to awaken interests, that is to say, to excite and 
raise to the position of strong incentives certain varieties 
of feeling. The cultivation of feeling connects itself on 
another side in the closest way with the development of 
volition. As we shall see by-and-by, the prompting forces 
in our voluntary action are feelings when elaborated into 
motives. We exert ourselves under the stimulus of a feel- 
ing of hunger, of love, and so forth. Hence the considera- 
tion of the feelings connects itself closely with that of 
conation, and has, indeed, by some been altogether com- 
prehended under this head. 

Definition of Feeling'. We may now seek to mark off 
the element of feeling more precisely by examining into its 
essential characteristics. 

All psychical states that are distinctly pleasurable, or 
the opposite, plainly come under the head of feelings. 
Thus, to take the lower region of " bodily " feeling, it is 
generally agreed that the pain of a burn, or the pleasure of 
quenching thirst, is properly described as a feeling. So in 

22 



338 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the higher region of so-called " mental " feeling or emotion 
it is recognised that the joy of success, the pain of bereave- 
ment, are examples of feeling. 

In addition to such well-marked cases of pleasurable and 
painful consciousness we have to include under the head of 
feeling every psychical state so far as it has any agreeable 
or disagreeable aspect, however slight. Thus every con- 
sciousness of a difficulty or hitch in an operation, whether 
bodily or mental, is as such disagreeable, and so finds a 
place in the category of feeling. 

It is evident that this comprehensive use of the terms 
pleasurable and painful enables us to say that most of our 
common experiences are coloured by some degree of feeling 
or affective ' tone.' Thus a close introspective observation 
tells us that sensations are in the large majority of cases, if 
not universally, accompanied by some amount of feeling. 
The same is true of the processes of ideation. 

How far pleasurable and painful consciousness exhausts 
all that is properly included under the head of feeling is a 
point of dispute. According to some psychologists there 
is over and above these opposed modes a third mode, viz., 
neutral feeling or bare, colourless excitement. Thus it is 
said that the primitive experience of shock, which later de- 
velops into the feeling of surprise or wonder, is an example 
of such aheutral or indifferent feeling. It is probable, how- 
ever, that all that is properly affective in these and similar 
psychical states is characterised by a pleasurable or a pain- 
ful tone. 

Feeling and Presentation. As has been already im- 
plied, pleasure and pain do not occur as isolated experiences, 
but in close connexion with presentative elements, that is to 
say, sensations, and their derivatives, percepts, and ideas. 
Thus we commonly speak of a pleasure as one "of taste," 
" of colour," " of imagination," and so forth. We must now 
try to indicate this relation more clearly. 

The first thing to do here is to mark off as sharply as 
possible the presentative and the affective element. The 
presentative element is distinguishable from its concomitant 



THE FEELINGS. 339 

of feeling by a certain determinate quality and local com- 
plexion. Thus a touch as soft, as experienced at a particu- 
lar region, or over a particular surface of the skin, is pure 
presentation. On the other hand, the feeling-tone as such 
has no quality (apart from the radical difference of the 
pleasant and the unpleasant) and no local attribute, though 
it certainly has intensity and duration. 

While thus capable of being distinguished by careful 
analysis, the presentative and the affective element are 
closely bound up one with another, especially in the region 
of sense-experience. This is clearly shown in the common 
way of describing feeling by epithets borrowed from sensa- 
tion, e.g., a "burning," a " pricking " pain. We have now 
to look into this connexion somewhat more closely. At 
first it might appear as if the presentative element and 
feeling are given together in strict simultaneity as dif- 
ferent " elements in," or " aspects of," one experience. A 
closer examination shows, however, that the relation of the 
two elements is far less simple or uniform than at first ap- 
pears. Thus common experience tells us we may have the 
sensation of a blow before we feel its painfulness, and ex- 
periment has confirmed the observation. Thus it has been 
found that from one to two seconds may elapse between 
the sensation and the feeling of pain when a corn is struck. 
It has been ascertained further that in certain diseases, and 
by help of certain drugs, the affective element may be extin- 
guished and the presentative element remain. A certain mu- 
tual independence is further suggested by a comparison of 
the experience of different senses. In certain classes of 
sensation, e.g., ordinary touches, the feeling element is quite 
subordinate if present at all, whereas we see in the region 
of organic sensation a marked preponderance of the affect- 
ive over the presentative side. The sensation of a lacera- 
tion or of indigestion has, as we saw above, no well-de- 
fined specific quality like that of colour, and is, indeed, by 
some regarded as a case of pure feeling. 

We may summarise the results as follows : — 

(1) There is a general concomitance between the pre- 



340 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

sentative element, that is, sensation or its ideal representa- 
tive, and feeling — to the extent, at least, that there is no 
feeling which does not imply a minimum of presentative 
consciousness. 

(2) The affective and the cognitive element do not ap- 
pear with equal prominence in our sensational and idea- 
tional experience ; the higher degrees of definiteness of 
presentation tend to keep down feeling, and conversely the 
higher degrees of intensity or feeling tend to hinder the 
full development of the presentative element as a sharply 
discriminated quality. 

These results suggest that the physiological conditions 
of feeling, though including those of sensation, are in part 
different. But of the exact nature of these distinctive 
nervous concomitants little is known. It has been held by 
some that there are special nerves of pain, yet this is ex- 
ceedingly doubtful. On the other hand, it is highly proba- 
ble that all feeling involves a more extended central nerve- 
process than sensation. 

Conditions of Pleasure and Pain. 

We have now to consider the conditions or mode of 
production of feeling. Here, again, we shall confine our- 
selves in the main to the simpler feelings, those of sense, 
inquiring into their nervous conditions. 

Law of Stimulation. The first and most obvious 
mode of variation of the process of sensory stimulation 
is quantity, and more particularly intensity ; and a very 
little consideration will show that this exerts an influ- 
ence on the resulting feeling. In the case of the higher 
senses, for example, while a moderate strength of stimu- 
lus, light, or sound, is agreeable, a greater strength be- 
comes disagreeable. The same relation holds in the case 
of the reflex reactions called forth by sensory stimuli. A 
moderate exertion of attention to sights or sounds is agree- 
able, a severe strain becomes fatiguing, and so disagree- 
able. Similarly with respect to all muscular activity. Mod- 



THE FEELINGS. 



341 



erate exercise of a group of muscles is enjoyable, unduly 
violent exercise is fatiguing, that is, disagreeable. 

Passing to ideational activity, a like relation appears to 
obtain. Apart from all differences among our representa- 
tions, it may be laid down as a general proposition that the 
cerebral activity involved in imagination and thought is 
attended by some degree of pleasure, provided the effect 
of over-stimulation and of fatigue is excluded. Thus a 
rapid sequence of ideas to which attention is able to ac- 
commodate itself is exhilarating. On the other hand, a too 
sudden and overpowering intrusion of ideas, as also un- 
duly prolonged and fatiguing intellectual activity, are dis- 
agreeable. 

These facts have long since led to the formulation of a 
law of pleasure and pain, which may be called the law con- 
necting pleasure and pain with quantity of functional ac- 
tivity, or more briefly the law of pleasurable and painful 
stimulation. It may be expressed as follows :-r- 

The moderate stimulation of the central nervous organs 
is attended with pleasure, and the pleasure continues to 
increase with the increase of the stimulation up to the 
limit of excessive or fatiguing activity, at which point it 
gives way to a feeling of pain. 

The expression ' moderate ' stimulation is here used in 
a relative, and not in an absolute, sense. It has reference 
to the peculiar structure and to the temporary condition of 
the organ stimulated. It is probable that some nerve-struct- 
ures which are called on for more frequent and prolonged 
activity, e.g., those involved in vision, in the movements 
of the hands, recover more rapidly than others, and so 
allow of a longer pleasurable activity. Not only so, a 
vigorous condition of the organ, say, a group of muscles, 
or the muscular system as a whole, renders possible a 
greater intensity and a longer duration of pleasurable ac- 
tivity than a feeble condition. 

Impulse and its Gratification : Pains of Want. 
In the above statement of the principle of stimulation no 
reference has been made to any impulse or disposition to 



342 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



activity. A correct view of our psycho-physical organisa- 
tion requires us to bring in this element. Our organs may 
be more or less disposed to activity. This is specially true 
of the motor organs. These may be in a state of special 
readiness or tension, so that the slightest amount of sen- 
sory stimulation suffices for exciting the activity. Such an 
organic disposition becomes an impulse where there is a 
conscious concomitant, viz., a desiring or striving to act.* 

These organic dispositions show themselves to some 
extent as original. This is illustrated in the instinctive 
impulse to walk, to examine things, to play, and so forth. 
They are, moreover, furthered by the habitual direction of 
our activity. We tend and feel impelled to do what we 
have been accustomed to do. 

The effect of such organic dispositions on feeling is a 
double one. In the first place, the co-operation of the dis- 
position or impulse is an important reinforcing factor in 
the pleasurable stimulation. When strongly impelled by 
hunger, by the impulse to muscular activity, to reading, 
and so forth, the pleasure accompanying the corresponding 
activity is proportionately increased. Hence the common 
way of looking at all enjoyment as the gratification of 
impulse. 

In the second place, the delay of such gratification gives 
rise to a new variety of painful feeling, viz., that of Want or 
Craving. To be hungry and not be satisfied, to want to 
read and have no book at hand, is in itself a misery. 

Such painful cravings are, to some extent, periodically 
recurrent, and connected with rhythmical changes of or- 
ganic conditions. These periodic organically conditioned 
cravings are known as Appetites. They consist of the 
well-known bodily appetites, as hunger, thirst, sexual crav- 
ing, together with other regularly recurring wants not com- 
monly spoken of as appetites, such as the craving for sleep, 
for muscular activity, for amusement. This regular recur- 
rence of craving becomes further fixed by habits of life. 

* The nature of impulse will be more fully considered by-and-by under 
the head of Conation. 



THE FEELINGS. 



343 



By combining the principle of impulse and want with 
that of stimulation, we may say : Pleasure, so far as it is 
connected with quantity of stimulation, lies between two extremes \ 
excess and deficiency, each of which is painful. 

Since our organs are useful structures needed for the 
carrying out of certain life-functions, anything which serves 
to promote their efficiency is beneficial, anything which 
tends to destroy this efficiency, injurious. Moderate exer- 
cise conduces to efficiency. Hence the pleasures of exer- 
cise, including the gratifications of impulse which dratv us 
to such beneficial action, together with the pains of craving 
which drive us thither, work to our advantage. 

Quiet Pleasures : Repose. In the above account of 
the relation of feeling to quantity of stimulation we have 
left out of consideration an important modifying circum- 
stance. Low degrees of stimulation seem to produce an 
effect of agreeable feeling disproportionate to their inten- 
sity. This is accounted for partly by the voluminousness 
and capability of prolongation of these pleasures, partly, 
too, by the fact that in the case of very weak stimuli, as 
pianissitno tones, and quiet shades of colour, there is a spe- 
cial activity of attention involved. 

Pleasures which we call by the names idleness, repose, 
dolce far niente, appear at first to contradict the principle 
that pleasure is a concomitant of a positive activity. It 
must be remembered, however, that the delights of repose 
are relative, presupposing, in their higher intensities, at 
least, a contrast to a remembered exertion. Hours of inac- 
tivity, or idleness, fill a considerable place in those rhyth- 
mic alternations of work and rest which are required for 
healthy life. What we call doing nothing is, moreover, 
never really a state of complete inactivity. Thus the re- 
laxation of the severer kinds of bodily and mental work 
makes room for a more vigorous discharge of the vital 
functions. In addition to this, idleness when pleasurable 
always involves something of play, that is, of gentle activity 
indulged in for its own sake. 

Pleasure and Pain and Form of Stimulus. While 



344 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



intensity or strength of stimulus is thus one main factor in 
the determination of pleasure and pain, it is not the only 
condition. A difference in the form of the stimulus, an- 
swering to a difference of quality in the sensation, affects 
the tone of feeling also. Thus, in the region of taste, as 
we saw, a bitter taste is as such disagreeable in all degrees. 
Similarly all degrees of roughness in sound, and all degrees 
of that alternate increase and decrease of stimulus consti- 
tuting a beat, and supposed to form the essential ingredient 
in musical dissonance, are as such disagreeable. A like 
rule holds good in the case of a series of stimulations. In 
order that they be agreeable they must be arranged in a 
certain form. Thus a rapidly flickering light, even when 
not strong, may be very disagreeable. All jerky, irregular 
successions of stimuli as luminous and sonorous are as such 
disagreeable. 

These and other facts suggest that all modes of stimu- 
lation are not equally suited to the efficiency or welfare of 
our organs. There seems to be a normal mode of func- 
tional activity, and on the other side an abnormal or injuri- 
ous mode. In what precisely the injury consists, physi- 
ological science does not as yet enable us to say. It is 
possible that it consists in a measure of that destructive 
agency which we see in the case of severer pains of lacera- 
tion. 

Change as Condition of Feeling: Prolonged Stim- 
ulation. We now come to another important condition of 
pleasure and pain. As already suggested, a feeling is af- 
fected not only by the nature of the stimulus at work at 
the time, but by the preceding psycho-physical activity. 
Our consciousness is not a series of detached, disconnected 
" states," but a continuous movement, every stage of which 
is modified by previous stages. One of the most striking 
manifestations of this is the fundamental importance of 
change or contrast as a condition of vividness or full in- 
tensity of consciousness (see p. 105). And the influence of 
this condition is seen yet more clearly in the region of feel- 
ing than in that of cognition. In order to understand the 



THE FEELINGS. 345 

effects of change on our affective states we must first con- 
sider the results of prolonged unchanging stimulation. The 
value of change as a condition of sustained pleasurable 
feeling depends on this circumstance. 

The most general effect of prolonged stimulation is 
what we may call a weakening or dulling of the feeling. 
Thus, a prolonged pleasurable stimulation, as that of the 
eye by a sunny landscape or stage-spectacle, of the ear by 
music, and so forth, results in a gradual falling off in the 
intensity of the pleasure. The exact cause of such a fall- 
ing off is not as yet ascertained, but it may be said that 
there is a rapid and considerable decline at the outset 
through the loss of the initial freshness of impression, and 
then a slower and less considerable decline till an approxi- 
mation to a dull uniform effect is reached. A similar result 
shows itself in general in the case of painful stimulation. 
A large part of our physical discomforts and mental troubles 
lose in intensity when prolonged. That is to say, they sink 
to the level of dull and obscure psychical phenomena. 

The reasons of this general subsidence of feeling when 
excitation is prolonged are to be found partly in the low- 
ered functional activity of the nerve-structures engaged, 
partly in a falling off in the attention through a decline of 
the stimulus of interest. In addition to this general effect 
there are more special effects. Thus in the case of pro- 
longed painful stimulation the dulling effect is apt to be 
counteracted by secondary results, e.g., extension of the 
range of suffering, as in toothache and other bodily pains. 
In the case of prolonged pleasurable stimulation, when this 
is powerful, we have the special effect of transformation. 
Owing to the on-coming of fatigue a stimulation which was 
pleasurable in the earlier stages may grow distinctly pain- 
ful in the later. 

Even when the prolongation falls short of this extreme 
effect, it may result in a mental weariness which arises 
from a consciousness of the decline. This effect is seen in all 
states of monotony, tedium or ennui. Here the sense of 
-freshness departed and of dull, uninspiring sameness fills 



346 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the mind. We grow weary of the drab complexion of 
things, and long for a more vivid colouring. The very 
fact that ennui includes a disagreeable consciousness of 
time (/. e., relatively vacant time) shows that our surround- 
ings, our doings, have ceased to engage our minds pleas- 
urably. Thus ennui is a complex feeling, involving the 
imagination of other and livelier surroundings and pursuits 
and the craving for change. Hence it is in its more devel- 
oped form a distinctively human feeling. A sporting dog 
may feel a germ of it, when he is shut indoors and impulse 
prompts to the more exciting pursuits of the field. But it 
becomes fully developed only in the case of human beings 
pretty high up in the scale of civilisation. 

Effects of Change. Having thus considered the re- 
sult of prolonged unchanging stimulation, we may proceed 
to inquire into the effects of change. 

The general effect of change is to sustain the full vivid- 
ness of feeling. It prevents that falling off or dulling of 
feeling of which we have just given an account, and se- 
cures a measure of the initial freshness and strength. N.ot 
only so, since all change is attended with some consciousness 
pf change, a transition as such is a cause of a new element 
of feeling which heightens the effect of the second stimula- 
tion. Thus in passing to a new pleasurable activity, as 
from brain-work to a game of lawn-tennis, we have in the 
consciousness of the transition a feeling of expansion, 
which as such is pleasurable. The quantity of the effect 
will vary, roughly at least, with the amount, as estimated 
by the greatness and suddenness of the change. 

This action of change on feeling may be seen both in 
alterations of intensity or strength (the mode of excitation 
remaining unaltered), and in variations of the mode or 
form of activity. 

The effect of change in the quantity of psycho-physical 
excitation is seen in the growing elation of rising activity. 
Many of our common pleasures, sensuous and intellectual^ 
are illustrations of this effect. Thus the pleasure of pass- 
ing from a dull into a bright light, of a crescendo passage in 



THE FEELINGS. 



347 



music, of conscious growth and advance in power, bodily 
or mental, illustrates the effect of heightened activity in 
giving us a full intense enjoyment. This effect, it is to be 
observed, involves a consciousness of heightened activity. 

What holds of the rise holds also, mutatis mutandis, of 
the fall of activity. A descent from the full delight of sun- 
shine to a comparatively dull illumination gives us, through 
the consciousness of contrast, a sense of loss. The smaller 
pleasure looks poor and contemptible after the larger. It 
is this circumstance which gives to exalted rank its special 
precariousness : — 

The lamentable change is from the best. 

The effects of change in amount of stimulation here 
briefly illustrated may be subsumed under the following 
principle : — 

Change in the amount of stimulation increases or dimin- 
ishes the accompanying feeling (beyond the point due to 
the bare difference between the stimuli) through the con- 
sciousness of contrast attending the transition ; this added 
effect varying in intensity with the ratio of the two stimu- 
lations. 

Coming now to changes in the form or mode of activity, 
we are prepared from what has gone before to see that 
variation of activity is one great condition of prolonged 
pleasure. The complexity of our organism and of the cor- 
related activities, by producing a large number of recurrent 
readinesses for and dispositions to specific modes of ac- 
tivity, renders change of occupation a main condition of a 
healthy and enjoyable life. The need of such variation is 
further laid down in the laws of attention, the psycho-phys- 
ical activity of which can only be maintained when its direc- 
tion changes from time to time. 

What are known as the pleasures of variety involve, in 
addition to these conditions, a further psychical factor, viz., 
the exhilarating sense of change and of freshness that at- 
tends the experience of varied activity. Hence the ancients 
were right in saying that it is the variation itself which 
delights (variatio delectat). 



348 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The charm of Novelty, about which so much has been 
written, illustrates the same principle. It is possible that 
certain first experiences owe something of their delightful 
character to special organic conditions which never recur 
later on. The first greeting of bright colour by the baby- 
eye may bring a wave of glad feeling which is never re- 
peated. At the same time, what is customarily called nov- 
elty, as of a first ball, a first tour abroad, a new house, and 
so forth, owes its charm to the transition from the accus- 
tomed to the unaccustomed. That is to say, a ' novel ' ex- 
perience gives us in an exceptionally full and impressive 
form that transition from the stale to the fresh which enters 
into all variation. 

As in the case of quantity, so here we may summarise 
the facts under the head of a principle : — 

All change in the mode of our functional activity serves 
to emphasise or intensify the feeling-concomitant of the 
new activity through a consciousness of such variation ; 
and the amount of this added effect will vary in general 
with that of the (qualitative) unlikeness in the two activi- 
ties, and with the degree of freshness of the nerve-struct- 
ures subsequently engaged. 

Negative Pleasures and Pains. One other conse- 
quence of the principle of change has to be illustrated, 
viz., the effect of contrast in passing from a state of pleas- 
ure to its opposite, or vice versa. Pleasure and pain are 
the most impressive contrast in our experience. Hence a 
transition from the one state to the other is always at- 
tended with a special intensification of feeling. Thus the 
passage from the pain of craving, as that of thirst, to the 
pleasure of satisfaction, from sickness and pain to health 
and enjoyment, from the misery of poverty to the delights 
of wealth, from the depression of a doubting to the elation 
of a confident love, and so forth, is a theme of remark in 
every-day life and in fiction. Conversely, the transition 
from health to sickness, dignity to shame, and the like, 
constitutes a well-worn subject of pathetic emphasis. 

The facts here referred to may be formulated in the 



THE FEELINGS. 



349 



simple principle : Pain and pleasure alike are heightened 
or intensified, and have their disagreeable and agreeable 
side emphasised, by a transition from and contrast to the 
opposite phase of feeling. 

According to Plato and others, all pleasure is some- 
thing negative, i. e., no really existent state, but the mere 
absence or non-existence of its opposite, pain, which is the 
positive and real state. This view makes it desirable to 
consider how far a mere change or contrast of state can de- 
termine the quality of a feeling as pleasurable or painful. 

That there are pleasures and pains that seem to have 
their generating condition in such a negative circumstance 
is certain. We may instance the pleasure which comes 
from the cessation of physical pain. The termination of 
acute suffering is in itself the occasion of an outburst of 
joyous feeling. Similarly the solution of an intellectual 
puzzle which has been worrying us is a cause of a very 
considerable pleasure. On the other side, the loss of a 
pleasure produces an appreciable pain through a sense of 
loss and the craving which attends this. 

In other cases, too, we can see that the effect is mainly 
due to the transition from an opposite affective state. 
Thus the pleasures of health, of liberty, and so forth, are 
largely due to contrast, and are, therefore, rarely realised 
in any considerable measure, save as a transition from an 
actual or at least an imagined experience of the opposite 
condition, sickness, restraint, etc. 

While, however, one may thus allow that the removal 
of a cause of pleasure or of pain may be a sufficient occa- 
sion for the on-coming of the opposed phase, it is impor- 
tant to add that such so-called negative feelings have in 
every case o?ie positive condition at least, viz., the conscious- 
ness of the change. An animal that forgot its pain the very 
moment the cause of it ceased to act could not enjoy the 
relief as we enjoy it. 

We have then, in the circumstance of transition, escape 
from pain, loss of pleasure, an intelligible cause of that 
secondary mode of feeling which we call negative. This 



350 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

effect of relief is, however, limited. Many of the so-called 
negative feelings have positive neuro-psychical conditions 
as well. Thus the pleasure of health and liberty includes 
a positive stimulus in the shape of a new energetic outburst 
of long-repressed activity. And a large group of pleasures, 
as those of art, cannot without forcing be brought under 
the head of negative feelings at all. The large voluminous 
delight of a new book, of a picture-gallery, of a concert, 
cannot be described as an escape from a preceding state of 
painful craving. 

Decay of Feeling : Habit or Accommodation. 
We have now to consider the modifications of feeling which 
are introduced by continuous or frequent renewal of stimu- 
lation over longer periods of time. Here new influences come 
into view which we may describe generally as the effect of 
Custom, Habit, or to employ a more technical expression, 
Accommodation. 

In certain respects the effect of custom on feeling is 
similar to that of prolonged stimulation at a particular 
time: it tends to blunt its first keen edge. " Ab assuetis 
non fit passio." Our permanent surroundings and manner 
of life tend to grow indifferent, that is, to lose all or most 
of their affective concomitants. This applies at once to 
our pleasures and to our pains. Thus we get used, that is, 
comparatively indifferent, to surroundings, companions, 
lines of activity, which, when they were new, were highly 
enjoyable, or, on the other hand, particularly disagreeable. 

Where we have to do, not with unbroken continuance, 
but with periodic recurrence, the counteracting influence 
of freshness or variety comes in. All forms of pleasurable 
activity, if sufficiently intermitted, retain much of their pris- 
tine freshness. The pleasures of travel, of art, and so on, 
when indulged in rarely, illustrate this truth. The hedonic 
art of living includes among its foremost problems the de- 
termination of the degree of frequency at which the re- 
newal of a pleasure more than compensates for the loss of 
its intensity through familiarity. 

This decay or gradual abatement of feeling with perma- 



THE FEELINGS. 



351 



nence and custom may be supposed to involve some pro- 
cess of adjustment or accommodation in the nerve-struct- 
ures concerned, closely related to that perfecting of me- 
chanical arrangements which, as we saw above, leads to 
the lowering of the psychical concomitant. What these 
changes precisely are, however, our physiological knowl- 
edge does not as yet enable us to say. 

Counteractives of Decay : Habit and Feeling-. 
This general tendency of continuance, frequent repetition, 
or custom, to produce a decay of feeling is, however, coun- 
teracted and in a manner disguised by other and more spe- 
cial tendencies. To begin with, the process of organic ad- 
justment or accommodation just referred to is less simple 
than we have supposed. Exercise tends to strengthen an 
organ, and is one main condition of organic growth. One 
important result of this is that stimuli which were at first 
fatiguing and so painful may with repeated application be- 
come pleasurable. Thus an amount of muscle-work or 
brain-work, which is at first unpleasant, may with increase 
of functional power become enjoyable. Another effect 
tending to disguise the general decay of feeling is due to 
its increasing complication as experience advances and 
associations form themselves. In this way our friends, our 
books, and so forth, though losing some of their pristine 
charm, become endeared by associations. 

The action of association leads on to the influence of 
Habit in the domain of feeling. What remains with us, 
what we habitually see, and habitually do, while it loses its 
keen pleasurableness, generates through habit an attach- 
ment or clinging of mind which betrays itself whenever it 
is removed. Jeannie Deans, feeling strange and lost in her 
London surroundings, and longing to get back to her fa- 
miliar scenes, is an example of this effect. Every sudden 
rupture in our experience, as the loss of a familiar friend, 
shows the same force of custom in producing an attach- 
ment of mind. Here, then, we have an effect precisely the 
reverse of blunting. The older and more fixed the habit,, 
the harder is it to bear the sundering of the bond. Habit 



352 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



is thus a fertile source of negative pains, or the pains of 
craving, a source which grows more prolific as life ad- 
vances. 

It is evident that we have in the special influences just 
considered elements which serve to limit the value of 
change or variety as a condition of a happy life. If we 
were always to abandon action at the stage at which it is 
unpleasantly laborious, we should never grow to the capa- 
bility of all the higher and more difficult exercises of body 
and mind. The growth of intellectual and aesthetic inter- 
ests presupposes a certain persistence in intellectual ac- 
tivity in spite of its temporary painfulness. This is a truth 
fraught with important practical significance. The edu- 
cator who fears to give a child anything to do that is not 
immediately pleasurable can never develop its higher 
powers. 

In the principle of habit or habituation we have a still 
more powerful opponent to the attractions of novelty and 
variety. The new fails to delight when it involves a too 
great and sudden rupture of continuity in our experience. 
Even a child with all its craving for novelty is apt to break 
down in despair in the midst of a social treat at suddenly 
waking up to the fact that it is in a strange room and 
among strange faces. The susceptibility to the charm of 
novelty on the one side, and to the mastering force of 
habit on the other, have a different ratio at different ages 
and among different individuals. The art of happy living 
includes a nice adjustment of these opposing tendencies, the 
securing of the maximum of the pleasure of variety without 
running the risk of suffering through a deprivation of what 
has grown customary and so necessary. 

Juxtaposition of Excitations : Harmony and Con- 
flict. Thus far we have adopted the abstract supposition 
that feeling presents itself as a perfectly simple phenomenon, 
that it is occasioned by the stimulation of one organ or set 
of neural structures only, as the organ of taste. This sup- 
position is probably never realised in our actual experi- 
ence. 



THE FEELINGS. 



!53 



To begin with, then, owing to the continuity of structure 
throughout the nervous system the stimulation of a particu- 
lar cortical area tends to propagate or diffuse itself over 
other areas. This effect is particularly conspicuous in the 
case of all markedly pleasurable or painful stimulation. 
Familiar instances of this are the agreeable secondary effects 
of pleasant rhythmical movements of the limbs, of pleasur- 
able muscular activity in promoting circulation, etc., of cer- 
tain unpleasant smells, and other sensations in producing 
disagreeable organic sensations (nausea). The importance 
of this diffusion of pleasurable and painful stimulation will 
appear by-and-by, when we come to consider what is known 
as the physical embodiment and expression of feeling. 

This truth clearly points to a certain organic rapport, a 
kind of unconscious sympathy or " consensus " among the 
several structures connected. A pleasurable, that is, a bene- 
ficial, stimulation of one organ tends to a furtherance of bene- 
ficial functional activity in ether organs. Similarly in the 
case of painful or injurious stimulation. The structure and 
mode of working of the nervous system tend, then, to pro- 
duce the result of a more or less complete participation of 
the whole in the varying conditions of each part. The law 
of our nervous organisation is that of an ideal family or 
state : the weal or woe of the part tends to become the weal or 
woe of the whole. 

While it is thus generally true that a wholesome or hurtful activity of 
one organ tends to produce a like condition in other and connected or- 
gans, the law is subject to a number of apparent exceptions. Certain 
modes of stimulation, which in themselves and at the time yield pleasure, 
<?. g., narcotics, indigestible condiments, produce, indirectly and later on, 
injurious and painful results. On the other hand, many stimuli, which 
are in their immediate and momentary effects disagreeable, as the first 
shock of the shower-bath, produce, indirectly, salutary and agreeable 
effects. 

Complication of the process of stimulation may arise 

not only through the production of such secondary nervous 

excitations, but through the simultaneous and independent 

production of different nervous excitations. Owing to the 

23 



354 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



very structure of the nervous system with its innumerable 
peripheral points of attack, and owing further to the large 
range of ideational activity in the case of the developed 
brain, we are exposed at any time to a multitude of stimuli 
both extra-organic and intra organic. 

Owing to this circumstance of multifarious disconnected 
stimulation we are exposed to the action of Conflict, that is 
to say, the disagreeable effect which attends the opposition 
of disparate and incompatible activities. On the other 
hand, when the concurrent excitations are compatible and 
tend to merge in one large peaceful current of activity, we 
have the intensifying effect of Harmony. 

The pain of conflict may be illustrated by the state of 
distraction, as in the perplexity of a chairman at a public 
meeting when two aspiring orators rise at the same moment. 
Such disconnected multiplicity of stimuli baffles the effort 
of attention to single out, and concentrate itself upon, some 
one object, an effort which, as we have seen, is a condition 
of a connected mental life. 

A more specialised and distinct form of conflict arises 
where a particular psychical element tends by the nature of 
its content to inhibit a second as contradictory. Here, 
through the nature of the contents, all attempt to reduce 
plurality to unity is futile, and the sense of antagonism and 
mutual arrest and destruction grows full and intense. All 
disappointment of expectation is an example of this. To 
have the psycho-physical mechanism preadjusted for a 
certain impression, and then to fail to receive this, intro- 
duces a peculiar modification of the feeling of jar. A 
weakened form of such disappointment presents itself in the 
effect of all that is foreign, incongruous, and 'out of place,' 
as that which deviates from the conventional standard in 
manners, dress, and so forth. 

Other varieties of conflict are that intellectual form 
which presents itself in the state of doubt already spoken 
of, and in all logical contradiction ; the feeling of social 
contradiction which we experience when our sentiments do 
not accord with those of others ; and the sense of volitional 



THE FEELINGS. 



355 



conflict which arises when we are acted upon by opposing 
impulses, a state to be considered hereafter. 

When, on the other hand, there is no opposition, but 
agreement, when the reality accords with our expectation, 
statement harmonises with statement, impulses converge 
to a single line of action, and so forth, there seems to be 
an expansion instead of a restriction of our conscious life, 
and we have the pleasurable feeling of harmonious ac- 
tivity. 

As a last example of conflict and harmony, we may take 
the opposition of pleasure and pain, and the reinforcement 
of one pleasure by another. 

The pleasurable and the painful, though antagonistic 
one to another, may arise together without giving rise to a 
distinct consciousness of conflict. One of the feelings may 
be so much stronger than the other as to thrust it into the 
background of the sub-conscious. In certain cases, more- 
over, the subordinate element, though partially realised, 
produces rather an effect of contrast than one of conflict. 
This is illustrated in the pleasures of sad reverie or melan- 
choly, of tragedy, and the like. Here there is an under- 
current of painful feeling which is not fully realised as 
such, but which rather serves to throw into relief and so to 
intensify the feeling of pleasure, which is the dominant 
factor in the mood. 

A full sense of conflict between pleasure and pain arises 
when the two feelings are both present in sufficient inten- 
sity and stability, and are not so unequal in point of strength 
as to allow of one overpowering the other. Thus the co- 
existence of a loud strident voice with a lovely face affects us 
like a musical dissonance. The death of Gloucester, whose 

Flaw'd heart 
(Alack, too weak the conflict to support !) 
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, 
Burst smilingly, 

illustrates the effect of such conflict in its more intense form. 

It may be added that, since pleasure is what we desire 

and like to retain, any intrusion of the painful on a pleasur- 



356 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

able state, as the jarring effect of a wrong note in an other- 
wise beautiful work of art, is specially resented as a dis- 
sonance. Here the opposition between pleasure and pain 
is reinforced by the conflict of desire with reality. 

In addition to this general relation of opposition and 
agreement among affective elements there are more special 
and definite relations. In many cases there is something 
in the whole psycho-physical condition with which a feeling 
is bound up rendering it specially antagonistic to, and exclu- 
sive of, certain other conditions. Thus all quiet, soothing 
varieties of pleasurable stimulation, as soft touches, slow, 
gentle movements of limb or body, soft and slowly suc- 
ceeding sounds, put us into a certain psycho-physical mood 
which renders us indisposed to respond to more exciting 
stimuli. The sombre, melancholy pleasures are in this 
way incompatible with the more gay and exciting ones. 
On the other hand, any new mode of stimulation of a simi- 
lar kind, that is, producing a kindred affective tone, is 
welcomed. When gay we look out for exciting pleasures, 
when melancholy we welcome all that harmonises with this 
particular tone of feeling. 

Closely connected with the action of conflict and har- 
mony among simultaneous excitations is the effect of rhyth- 
mic and unrhythmical combination among successive stimu- 
lations. A regular periodic succession of bodily movements 
seems to be conditioned by the very structure of our neuro- 
muscular organs. Rhythmic movement is easy in itself? 
and as such pleasurable, and whenever we move freely 
we tend to move rhythmically. Hence the liking for it in 
all visible movements, as in those of a graceful walk, of 
the theatrical ballet, and so forth. It is to be added that 
the laws of attention require, as the condition of a pleasur- 
able succession of sense-impressions, a certain degree of 
time-regularity or periodicity. This effect of eased atten- 
tion is very conspicuous in the pleasure of rhythmic suc- 
cessions of sound. 

It is probable that all such rhythmic successions involve 
rapid alternating preadjustments and satisfactions of ex- 



THE FEELINGS. 



357 



pectant attention or expectation. In this way, then, it 
seems possible to connect the agreeableness of rhythmic 
and the disagreeableness of arhythmic series with the pleas- 
ure of harmony and its opposite. 

The laws of pleasure and pain have been much discussed in ancient 
and modern times. Plato put forward a negative theory of pleasure, re- 
garding it as something unreal, merely a filling up of a want or desire. 
Aristotle attacked this view, and conceived of pleasure as real and positive 
and as connected with a consciousness of perfect or unimpeded energy. 

In modern times, more especially in the writings of Leibnitz and his 
followers, there has been a disposition to regard pleasure and pain as de- 
pendent on cognition, and more particularly a ' perception ' of furtherance 
or hindrance of our condition. On the other hand, we note in more recent 
psychological works a tendency to refer pleasure and pain to nervous condi- 
tions. This idea assumes, in the writings of H. Spencer, Bain, and others, 
the form of a biological doctrine, viz., that pleasure is a concomitant of the 
maintenance of the whole sum of organic functions or of the organic equi- 
librium, pain, a concomitant of the disturbance of the same. (See Spencer's 
Principles of Psychology, vol. i. pt. i. ch. ix. ; and Bain's Mental and Moral 
Science, bk. i. ch. iv. sect. 6.) 

Having now discussed the general features and condi- 
tions of Feeling, we may proceed to a consideration of the 
more important of its varieties, and the special laws which 
govern the development of these. 

Varieties of Feeling, (a) Sense-Feelings. 

How Feelings are to be Distinguished. We have 
seen that all our feelings are constituted by elements of 
pleasure and pain. Strictly speaking, therefore, there are 
only two varieties of feeling, viz., the agreeable and the" 
disagreeable. All the various concrete feelings making up 
our actual experience, as those of hunger, cold, and fear, 
are, according to the view here adopted, qua feelings, 
merely particular modifications of agreeable and disagree- 
able consciousness. What makes us speak of them as dif- 
ferent feelings is, to some extent, the dissimilarity in re- 
spect of feeling-characters themselves (intensity, course of 
change), and still more the difference in the sensational or 
other presentative materials with which the feeling-element 
is incorporated. 



358 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

That our classifications of the feelings do largely turn 
on the differences of presentative character with which 
they are bound up is seen in the case of the broad division 
adopted by common thought and psychology between 
physical or ' bodily ' feelings, and ' mental ' feelings or emo- 
tion. This distinction is obviously based on the mode of 
excitation of the feeling and on the nature of its presenta- 
tive basis. A bodily feeling, as hunger, or tickling, is di- 
rectly due to a process of peripheral nerve-stimulation, and 
is the concomitant of what we call a sensation. On the 
other hand, an emotion, such as fear, or anger, always in- 
volves some central (perceptional or ideational) activity, 
and may, in contradistinction to a bodily feeling, be marked 
off as centrally excited. This primary division is too firmly 
fixed in common thought to be set at nought. Hence we 
shall make this bipartite division our starting-point in the 
treatment of the subject. The first class will be spoken of 
as Sense-Feelings, the second as Emotions. 

Characters of Sense-Feelings. By a sense-feeling is 
meant one that is determined by certain features in the pro- 
cess of peripheral sensory stimulation, such as the intensity 
of the stimulus, or its peculiar form (answering to quality 
of sensation). Examples of sense-feelings are those ac- 
companying sensations of heat and cold, taste, smell, mus- 
cular activity, in their several degrees of intensity. After 
our numerous references to these in illustrating the general 
properties of feeling, we may dismiss them with a few ad- 
ditional words. 

As already pointed out, feeling is a prominent feature 
in our organic sensations, those which accompany the ac- 
tions of the vital organs (nutritive functions), tending in- 
deed to mask the presentative aspect altogether. Another 
feature to be noticed in the organic feelings is the greater 
conspicuousness of the disagreeable, as compared with the 
agreeable element. When we think of a feeling of diges- 
tion, we naturally represent an uncomfortable sensation. 
This is explained by a reference to the principles of change 
and accommodation dealt with above. The pleasures of 



THE FEELINGS. 



359 



organic life, being the concomitant of normal and so habit- 
ual activity, rarely grow into an appreciable quantity. We 
may be deriving a certain mild voluminous pleasure from 
breathing under favourable circumstances, but we only note 
the pleasure as an appreciable quantity in passing from a 
lower to a higher functional activity, as in stepping out 
from a close room into the fresh air outside. Pain, on the 
other hand, being the concomitant of disturbance, is com- 
paratively exceptional, and as such impressive. 

Since, as we have seen, the organic sensations tend to 
fuse or coalesce in an undiscriminated mass of sensation, 
the feelings which immediately accompany them usually 
blend also. The result of the coalescence of the numerous 
elements of agreeable and disagreeable feeling at any one 
time constitutes what is known as the general feeling of 
life (vital sense). This, when the resultant tone is pre- 
ponderantly agreeable, is spoken of as a sense of physical 
well-being or health, when the resultant tone is markedly 
disagreeable, as a sense of physical depression, of ill-health, 
or malaise. This composite feeling forms the ground-tone 
of what we call the mental mood or temper of the time. 

Coming now to the special senses, we find that in the 
case of Taste and Smell the affective element is pronounced. 
We frequently distinguish the sensations of these senses 
according to their affective aspect as agreeable or dis- 
agreeable, e.g., 'sweet' perfume, 'nasty' taste. In Touch, 
we have both the presentative and the affective element 
well marked. The difference of the agreeable and the dis- 
agreeable here coincides with certain qualitative differences, 
e. g., smooth and rough, partly with differences of intensity 
and volume, as seen in the special enjoyment of gentle 
and extended pressures, an effect illustrated in the luxury 
of the yielding cushion, the delight of the caress of the 
hand, and of the embrace. 

In the case of the two higher senses, Hearing and Sight, 
we find that the element of feeling falls back to some ex- 
tent owing to the greater degree of definiteness (in respect 
of quality, etc.) of the presentative element. At the same 



360 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



time, these senses contribute a large range of fairly intense 
feeling. The relation of the pleasurable and painful to the 
quantity and the form of stimulation is best studied in 
connexion with these senses. The pleasures of the several 
colours, as also those of tone, timbre and harmony, show 
in the clearest way the connexion of feeling with quality of 
sensation or form of stimulus. It is to be noted that in 
the case of Sight and Hearing the agreeable is quite as 
pronounced as the disagreeable, and in the case of sight, at 
least, tends to preponderate over the disagreeable. In this 
respect these senses show the opposite relation to that seen 
in the organic feelings. Owing to the wide variety of 
stimuli available, and the varying modes in which the sen- 
sations may be agreeably combined, viz., pleasing time 
forms in the case of the ear, space and time forms in the 
case of the eye, these senses allow of a much more pro- 
longed enjoyment than is possible in the case of the lower 
senses. The fact that all the Fine Arts appeal either to 
the ear or to the eye sufficiently attests this truth. 

As a last group of sense-feelings, reference may be 
made to the feelings which are the concomitants of Muscu- 
lar Sensations. Here we have feelings connected with a 
palpable mode of conscious activity. As already implied, 
these feelings illustrate in a peculiarly clear manner the in- 
fluence of amount of stimulation on the affective tone. 

Complexity and Alteration of Sense-Feelings. It 
follows from what has been said respecting the uniform 
sequence of a motor reaction on a sensory stimulation that 
our sense-feelings are from the first never perfectly simple 
phenomena. The pleasures of the palate, of the eye, and so 
forth, are always complicated by the affective concomitant of the 
reaction called forth. It must be remembered, too, that one 
important branch of this reaction is the adjustive process 
of attention, which itself, as moderately stimulated or over- 
powered, contributes an element of the agreeable or dis- 
agreeable to the whole psychical result. 

Our sense-feelings undergo a double process of altera- 
tion as experience progresses. To begin with, there seems 



THE FEELINGS. 



361 



to be a considerable falling off in the pristine intensity of 
sensuous enjoyment. This is supported by the fact that 
many persons can recall a delicious intensity of feelings of 
touch, colour, etc., which appears, at least in retrospect, 
vastly superior to later experiences. These facts seem 
sufficiently explained by the agencies of accommodation 
already dealt with, and the growing preponderance of the 
intellectual or presentative consciousness. As was pointed 
out above, we attend to sensations, under ordinary circum- 
stances, only so far as they are signs of things which are 
important to us. Experience tends, in the way already 
shown, to invest our sensations with objective significance, 
and this objective reference is that which has most prac- 
tical interest for us. Hence we do not realise the full 
sensuous enjoyment of colours, of tones in a voice, because 
these objective suggestions instantly occur and monopolise 
the attention. Artistic training of the eye involves the 
stripping off of these after-growths so as to get something 
approaching to the pure sensuous effect which is the pre- 
rogative of childhood. 

While, however, experience thus tends to dull the first 
keen delight in sensation, it effects another and compensa- 
tory kind of change in our sense-feelings. Thus if the blue 
loses its first sensuous charm it gradually accumulates new 
attractions through the grafting on of agreeable sugges- 
tions of sky and so forth. The effect of these associative 
processes will be considered in the next chapter. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the distinction of pleasure and pain and the conditions which de- 
termine them, see Hamilton, Lectures on Metaphysics, ii. xli. ff. ; Bain, 
Mental and Mo>al Science, bk. i. chap, iv., and bk. iii. chap. i. H. Spen- 
cer, Principles of Psychology, i. § 124 ff. ; Ward, article " Psychology," 
Encyclop. Britann., p. 66 and following. 

The special features of the Sense-Feelings are dealt with by Bain, 
op. cit., bk. i. chap, ii., and Grant Allen, Physiological ^Esthetics, chaps, 
iv. and vii. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
(i>) complex feelings: emotions. 

We have now to pass to the consideration of the second 
great class of feelings, those commonly known as Emotions 
or Passions, such as joy, grief, fear, anger, love. 

Structure of Emotion. As pointed out above, an 
emotion differs from a sense-feeling in having a mental, or, 
to speak more precisely, a central psycho-physical, origin. 
The pain of a prick is supposed to be the result of the affer- 
ent process in the particular nerve stimulated. The child's 
fear of a dog obviously has its starting-point in a central 
psycho-physical process corresponding to what we call the 
percept or an idea of an object. Since, as we have seen, 
even a percept involves a representative element, we may 
say that emotions are in general marked off from sense-feelings 
by the presence of a representative factor. 

In the second place, an emotion is characterised by a 
wide diffusive effect. Sense-feelings, though complicated in 
a measure, are relatively restricted in respect of the range 
of nervous excitation involved. On the other hand, an emo- 
tion of anger or terror is marked by a wide-ranging excita- 
tion, involving the voluntary muscles and the viscera (heart, 
respiratory organs, etc.). These diffused effects in their 
turn contribute reflexly a number of secondary sense-feel- 
ings which constitute an important and characteristic part 
of the whole emotion. 

We may say, then, that an emotion is a complex psychical 
phenomenon made up of two factors, or, as we may call 
them, stages : (a) the primary stage of central excitation ; 
and (b) the secondary stage of somatic resonance. The 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 363 

first includes the sensuous effect of the initial peripheral 
stimulation, together with the representative elements asso- 
ciatively conjoined with this: whereas the secondary stage 
includes all the ensuing modifications in tension of muscle, 
organic function, etc. Thus, an emotion of fear at a sud- 
den noise is divisible into a primary phase, the disturbing 
sensation and the vague consciousness of danger, and a 
secondary phase, the organic concomitants, viz., loss of 
muscular power, disturbance of heart's action, pallor, altera- 
tion of secretion, etc. These two factors, the central and 
the somatic, will be found to combine in very different pro- 
portions. 

Rise and Fall of Emotion : Emotional Persist- 
ence. Our brief account of the composition of an emo- 
tion has led us to see that it is a process occupying an ap- 
preciable time. The pain resulting from a prick may be 
momentary, disappearing with the withdrawal of the stimu- 
lus. But a state of grief requires time for its full realisa- 
tion. An emotion undergoes a certain rise or development 
from the stage of just appreciable excitement up to cul- 
mination. This course of development is determined, to 
some extent, by the range of resonant effect, the reflex re- 
sults of which, while all occupy some duration, require un- 
equal times for their realisation, and so constitute a grad- 
ual expansion of the whole emotive current. We do not 
become fully angry until our muscular apparatus has gone 
through the proper amount of characteristic action, as 
frowning and clenching of teeth. Similarly, fear is only 
fully realised when the cycle of organic effect is allowed to 
proceed unchecked. To this must be added that in the 
case of all but the primitive instinctive emotions there is 
the need of a certain mental occupation with the exciting 
cause. Thus an emotion of fear or anger grows through 
the gradual representation of the danger or the injury. 

With this gradual rise or development, there goes a 
gradual fall or subsidence. A great joy, a fit of terror, only 
dies away and leaves us calm after an appreciable, and, in 
some cases, considerable time. This persistence of emotion 



364 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

seems most readily explained by the large range of bodily 
disturbance involved. These modifications of muscular 
tension, circulation, secretion, etc., are apt to persist, and 
in this way the emotive excitement is prolonged. The in- 
fluence of the bodily resonance in prolonging a state of 
emotion is seen in the fact that we often go on feeling 
afraid, angry, and so forth, after the exciting cause is 
known to be removed. 

Influence of Emotion on the Thoughts. We are 
now in a position to understand more fully the effect of 
emotion on the intellectual processes. This may be viewed 
under two aspects : (a) the negative or inhibitory effect ; 
[l?) the positive or promotive effect. 

The inhibitory effect of emotion springs out of the fun- 
damental opposition of strong feeling to intellectual activ- 
ity. This phenomenon is very strikingly illustrated in the 
immediate results of all violent emotional agitation or 
shock. The sudden arrival of a bit of exciting intelli- 
gence, whether of a joyful character, as the inheritance of 
an unexpected fortune, or of a miserable character, as the 
death of a beloved friend, is apt to paralyse thought for a 
while. Further, all intense and prolonged painful emotion 
tends to retard the processes of thought by depressing or 
exhausting the nervous system. 

On the other hand, emotion as cerebral excitement is in 
its less agitating degrees distinctly promotive of ideation. 
We never have in our cooler moments such a swift rush 
of ideas as we have in moments of emotional excitement. 
This exhilarating effect is, of course, seen most plainly in 
the case of pleasurable emotion, agreeably to the principle 
already unfolded that pleasure furthers functional activity. 
But it is not wanting in the case of painful emotion, pro- 
vided it is confined to the stimulatory pitch and is not al- 
lowed to become prostrating. 

This furtherance of ideation by emotion, however, is 
rarely if ever impartial, and herein lies its chief drawback. 
It is a well-known fact that all emotion, when it is fully 
developed and grows persistent, tends to colour or give a 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 365 

particular direction to the ideas of the time. The terror- 
stricken man has his thoughts obstinately directed towards 
the terrible aspect of things. In extreme cases, his mind 
may become permanently occupied by a fixed idea {idee fixe) 
of a terrifying character. 

The explanation of this selective action of the feelings 
on the ideational material supplied by the suggestive forces 
of the time is to be found in those tendencies already dealt 
with under the head of harmony, and bodily resonance. 
Every emotional state is characterised by its own affective 
tone ; and this favours the rise of all presentations having 
a kindred effect, while it inhibits the rise of those which 
would conflict with it. 

Having thus briefly considered the composition and the 
more important effects of emotion in general, we may pro- 
ceed to study the chief phases of the development of our 
emotional life. And here we may best begin with a more 
detailed account of the primitive or instinctive features of 
our emotions, and then proceed to trace out the more im- 
portant results of experience and association in developing 
or otherwise modifying the instinctive manifestations. 

Development of Emotion. 

The Instinctive Factor : Expression. The gen- 
eral character of the emotive outburst or discharge has 
already been sufficiently described. It may be defined as 
a wide-ranging reflex motor excitation involving some, at 
least, of the ' voluntary ' muscles, as well as those by which 
the vital actions, e.g., circulation, digestion, are carried out, 
and, finally, the nerve- structures which are known to influ- 
ence the actions of the several secreting organs, as the sali- 
vary and lachrymal glands. This reflex diffusion of the 
nervous excitation in emotional stimulation is a primitive 
fact of our organisation. It shows itself distinctly in the 
first weeks of life. It has much in common with those 
reflex movements which are brought about by congenital 
arrangements, and which, as we shall see later on, form 
one of the main rudiments of voluntary action. 



366 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

What we call the expression of an emotion is merely 
that part of this reaction which is observable to others, and 
which helps us to read one another's feelings. Thus it in- 
cludes, first of all, the actions of muscles, as those of the 
limbs, face, and vocal organs, which distinctly betray their 
effects. We read a happy emotion in the movements of the 
eye and mouth which constitute facial expression. Other 
reactions involving the organs of respiration, circulation, 
and even digestion may enter into the expression of an emo- 
tion. Thus the disturbance of the respiratory process in 
sobbing, the pallor in fear due to altered vaso-motor action, 
the excitation of the lachrymal gland in weeping, are among 
the best-recognised manifestations of emotion. 

Differences of Emotive Reaction : Pleasurable 
and Painful Emotion. The bodily resonance varies con- 
spicuously in the case of different emotions. To begin 
with, there are certain aspects of the reflex discharge 
which are determined solely by the quantity and the sud- 
denness of on-coming of the emotive excitation. It may be 
said that all emotive excitement, irrespectively of its pleas- 
urable or painful tone, produces a muscular reaction which 
varies, in respect both of the range of muscles involved and 
of the extent of their contraction, with the quantity of the 
feeling, and accordingly increases as the emotion rises. 

While, however, there are certain features in the reflex 
discharge common to all kinds of emotion, it is well known 
that the resonance varies in character with the quality of 
the feeling. Thus the all-important difference between 
pleasurable and painful feeling effects a certain differen- 
tiation in the physical concomitants. According to the prin- 
ciple laid down above, we shall expect pleasurable feelings 
to produce in general (and within the limits of injurious 
shock) beneficial and pleasure-yielding concomitants. And 
this is certainly what we find. Thus, as there pointed out, 
enjoyment furthers the vital processes. The dyspeptic 
knows the beneficial influence of cheerful society and talk 
at table as an aid to digestion. Painful emotion, on the 
other hand, when sufficiently prolonged to show its charac- 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 367 

teristic effect, is in general attended by a lowering of vital 
action. This is best seen in the case of grief of all kinds, 
whether from the loss of a friend or of fortune, or from 
other cause. 

Specialised Manifestations of Emotion. In addi- 
tion to the broad contrast between the manifestation of 
pleasurable and of painful emotion, there are the finer dif- 
ferences which mark off particular varieties of emotive 
state, as fear, anger, love, and the rest. Each of the well- 
marked species of emotion has its characteristic group 
of reactions. Thus fear is differentiated from other emo- 
tive states in general, as well as from other varieties of dis- 
agreeable feeling, by its peculiar organic resonance, includ- 
ing such familiar effects as that disturbance of the heart's 
action known as palpitation, tremor of muscles, pallor, cer- 
tain alterations in the secretions {e.g., saliva). 

These different somatic resonances constitute, through 
the reflex sensations to which they give rise, so many dis- 
tinctive emotive colourings ; and there is little doubt that 
this resonance is an integral factor in, and an important 
characteristic of, the whole emotive state. 

These characteristic resonances supply further a differ- 
entiated language of the emotions. It is because the visi- 
ble and audible part of a psycho-physical state of fear is 
well defined and distinctive that we are able to read one 
another's feelings so rapidly and so easily. 

In the case of all the more primitive emotions, those 
which the civilised man has in common with the savage and 
with many of the lower animals near him in the zoological 
scale, such as fear, anger, love (in certain of its forms), this 
characteristic signature is in its main features common to 
all members of the species. Thus the laugh of joy, and the 
trembling of fear, are common to all grades of civilisation 
and all ramifications of the human race. The character- 
istic manifestation, moreover, shows itself in early life as a 
strictly instinctive reaction which is referrible to certain 
congenital arrangements in the nervous centres. 

Now it seems evident that the possession of a definite 



368 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

system of emotive signs is of real use to any species of so- 
cial, i. e., mutually helpful animals, and biological specula- 
tion enables us to conceive how such a system may have 
arisen. According to this there are two main influences 
which have served to originate the particular characteristic 
expressions we possess. These are : (a) the survival merely 
as expressional sign of what was once a movement useful 
for some definite end, as self-preservation, and (o) the ex- 
tension of such movement by similarity of affective tone, 
or what has been called " the analogy of feeling," to other 
and kindred emotive states. 

As an illustration of the first, we may take the clench- 
ing of the fist in anger, which seems plainly a survival of 
fighting habits. Similarly the characteristic mean shrink- 
ing attitude of fear may be explained as the sub-excitation 
of the useful action of evading attack. The second prin- 
ciple is illustrated in such actions as scratching the head 
in mental perplexity, this action having been originally 
serviceable in allaying an analogous sense-feeling. Simi- 
larly the smacking of the lips by the savage to express 
pleasure generally may be supposed to be due to the trans- 
ference of a movement originally useful in connexion with 
eating. 

Inherited Emotive Associations. So far as we 
have yet considered it, an emotion is instinctive in the 
sense that the reflex discharge follows when the appropriate 
stimulus, e. g., the experience-gotten suggestion of danger, 
is forthcoming. But modern research helps us to go fur- 
ther than this, and to say that, in certain cases, at least, 
the emotive condition is excited independently of its custom- 
ary presentative excitant. Thus it is well established that 
children display fear before strangers, before dogs and 
other animals, and this at an age which precludes the idea 
of any individual experience of evil in this connexion. 
Here it is evident the whole emotive phenomenon is in- 
stinctive. We express the fact by saying that the child 
has an instinctive dread of certain animals, and so forth. 

Such instinctive connexions between particular percepts 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 369 

and particular emotive discharges may be marked off by 
the description, Inherited Emotive Associations. A plaus- 
ible explanation of such connexions is that they are the 
transmitted result of oft-repeated ancestral experiences. 
Thus the baby fears the unknown animal, because human 
experience through many ages has tended to connect ideas 
of danger with wild animals.* 

Effect of Experience : Modification of Instinctive 
Reactions. In considering the effect of experience and 
education on emotion, we have first to recognise their ac- 
tion upon the reflex somatic discharge. The full naive 
manifestations of the child and the savage become modified 
by the forces of education or culture. 

In the first place, the early emotive discharge becomes 
toned down and restricted. The emotions take on a quieter 
form as life advances. This is more particularly true of 
certain unlovely or morally reprehensible feelings, as rage. 
This quieting effect is due to the development of conation. 
Passion no longer spends itself in aimless utterance, but, 
controlled by will, directs itself in the channels of useful 
action. 

In the second place, what we call education tends to 
differentiate the forms of emotive expression still further, 
substituting for the common primitive language a number 
of dialects, answering to different nationalities and differ- 
ent social strata. Thus a great deal of the pantomimic 
gesture of the races of Southern Europe is obviously learnt 
by imitation. 

One other influence of experience on the somatic reflex 
in emotional states must be alluded to, viz., the effect of 
repeated indulgence in an emotional state in fixing and 
strengthening the disposition to that mode of discharge. 
This is an illustration of the principle of habit, which, 
though it tends, as we have seen, to dull feeling, tends also 
indirectly to fix and further it by strengthening the dispo- 

* This involves the theory that acquired characters can be transmitted 
(cf. above, p. 78). 
24 



37o 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



sition to the appropriate motor reaction. A child who is 
allowed to fall again and again into the mental and bodily 
attitude of anger contracts a stronger organic disposition 
to react in this way, a fact clearly seen in the greater 
rapidity of the outburst, and in the diminished strength of 
the stimulus requisite for calling it forth. 

Growth of the Presentative Factor in Emotion : 
Ideal Feeling. The development of our emotional life, 
while thus influenced in a measure by modifications of in- 
stinctive reaction, is chiefly dependent on the extension and 
accumulation of presentative material. We have already 
seen that an emotion contains a presentative factor. Thus 
fear, love, and so forth, are excited by certain percepts, to- 
gether with the ideas which these percepts suggest. Over- 
looking the possible action of special inherited associations, 
we see that emotion proper, as distinguished from mere 
sense-feeling, only displays itself when experience supplies 
the necessary presentative stimulus. The growth and ex- 
pansion of emotion, its diffusion over a larger and larger 
range of object, its recoverability and extension in time, its 
differentiation into a larger and larger number of varieties 
or states, is due to this action of experience and association. 

In considering the effect of representation on emotion 
we must set out with the fact that when a feeling is an ac- 
companiment of a sensation (presentative state) it reap- 
pears in a weaker degree with the corresponding represent- 
ative element. Thus the pleasure attending a sensation 
of light, of satisfying thirst, and so forth, is revived or re- 
excited in a weakened form with the representation of the 
sensation. This reappearance of a sense-feeling through 
the reinstatement of the representative copy of the original 
sensation may be described as revived or as " ideal " feel- 
ing. It appears to receive its explanation from the circum- 
stance that the image has for its neural correlative a weak- 
ened excitation of the same central nervous elements that 
were engaged in the production of the sensation. 

Since the revived feeling is thus organically connected 
with the representative image, it follows that its recovera- 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 



371 



bility depends in general on the revivability of the present- 
ative element. It is a familiar fact that the pleasures of 
the higher senses, tones and colours, are revived in greater 
proportionate intensity than those of the lower senses. As 
everybody knows, it is hard to recall the pleasures of the 
table, still harder to recall pleasurable or painful organic 
sensations. 

How Feeling is Revived ; Associated Feeling. 
In tracing out the consequences of such revived feeling, 
the first point to consider is whether the process of assimi- 
lative conservation of sensation-traces tends to the preser- 
vation of the affective element as well. It has already 
been pointed out that repetition and custom exert a dull- 
ing effect on the sensuous feeling. We have now to in- 
quire how far this dulling effect is counteracted by the 
results of assimilative cumulation. 

In all cases of recognition of a pleasure-bringing ob- 
ject after an interval of separation, we can trace the effect 
of such a cumulation. Thus, in trying a favourite musical 
instrument after a period of disuse, we have the pleasure 
of tone appreciably increased by revivals of similar expe- 
riences. In certain cases, moreover, the very conscious- 
ness of recurrence contributes a new element of feeling. 
This applies to the deepening of horror through the repe- 
tition of a crime, as in the case of certain recent murders, 
the deepening of gratitude through the repetition of a like 
favour, and so forth. Here the effect of assimilative cumu- 
lation grows more distinct. 

. The revival of feeling is always, to some extent, the 
work of contiguous association. That is to say, a feeling 
occurs in the weakened ' ideal ' form only when there arises 
the representative copy of a sensation of which the original 
feeling was the concomitant. Thus it is a revived feeling 
when the sight of a cool stream recalls the pleasure of the 
bath. 

This revival of feeling through associative connexion 
with presentative elements is a fact of far-reaching conse- 
quence, for our intellectual and for our emotional life alike. 



372 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



The effect of this association on the former is seen in the 
fact that, feeling being the source of all that we call inter- 
est, the presence of a strongly-marked affective concomi- 
tant in a presentation or series of presentations tends 
greatly to a selective retention and reproduction of these. 
Not only does such an affective concomitant in the sense- 
experience serve to fix a vivid impression, but the weak- 
ened feeling which attends the uprising of the representa- 
tive image serves in the reproductive stage to awaken in- 
terest, and so to secure the proper adjnstive process of 
attention (cf. above, p. 225). It is, however, the effect on 
the growth of feeling itself that we are here specially con- 
cerned to trace out. 

The mode of action of associative integration in devel- 
oping new varieties of feeling may be illustrated in the 
gradual enrichment of our sense-feelings. Let us take a 
particular sound, as the cawing of a rook, which, in itself, 
is certainly not agreeable. This sound, in the case of those 
who have lived in the country in early life and enjoyed its 
scenes and its adventures, is well known to become a par- 
ticularly agreeable one. To some people, indeed, there is 
hardly any more delightful sonorous effect than that of 
this rough, unmusical call. The explanation is that this 
particular sound, having been heard again and again among 
surroundings, as park and woodland, which have a marked 
accompaniment of pleasure, has become contiguously inter- 
woven with these presentations, and so produces a faint 
re-excitation of the many currents of enjoyment which 
accompanied these. Here, then, we see that particular 
presentations take on more and more of the feeling con- 
comitant through successive processes of contiguous inte- 
gration with other distinctly pleasurable (or painful) pres- 
entations. 

It is to be noted that this associative integration of pres- 
entations with affective elements differs from that which 
connects presentations one with another. The feeling- 
mass, which has become conjoined with a given presenta- 
tion through the medium of associated presentations, tends 



COMrLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 373 

to appear without the revival of the latter. In other words, 
the feeling is said to be associatively transferred to a new 
presentation. Thus the cawing of the rook excites a pleas- 
urable feeling directly, that is, without any distinct repre- 
sentative consciousness of country scenes, so that the 
feeling appears to belong to the sound just as much as if 
it were a sense-feeling proper. Similar effects are seen in 
the transference of horror and other feelings to places, 
of dignified and undignified associations to names, and so 
forth. 

It follows from this that complex mental states may 
form themselves, in contiguous attachment to particular 
percepts, in which the feeling-element is predominant and 
the presentative remains in sub-conscious abeyance, that is 
to say, is only very vaguely differentiated and recognised 
in its constituent parts. Such a presentative-affective com- 
plex, appearing as a large undiscriminated feeling-mass, is 
precisely what we mean by an emotion on its presentative 
side. Thus the wave of feeling awakened, after an inter- 
val of separation, by the sight of a familiar object, which 
is dear to us, e.g., our home, our favourite book, our be- 
loved friend, is, in its initial as distinguished from its 
resonant stage, the outcome of a number of confluent asso- 
ciated pleasures. It is this process of transferential en- 
richment, leading to a deepening or a development of our 
feelings, which is most effective in counteracting the decay 
of feeling through accommodation. 

It may be well to point out that this principle of asso- 
ciative transference is one of the highest practical impor- 
tance. It enables us to a large extent to create likes or 
dislikes for relatively indifferent objects by investing them 
with agreeable or disagreeable associations. Locke sug- 
gests that boys would take to books as eagerly as they take 
to play if study were only invested with the semblance of 
play : and More, in his Utopia, shows how in his ideal com- 
munity gold and silver come to be contemned by reason of 
degrading associations. 

The same complex integration which serves to develop 



374 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

pleasurable and painful emotions tends to bring about 
those mixed emotional effects which we so frequently ex- 
perience. Our feeling for a locality, for a person whom 
we have known intimately, for a well-studied author, and 
so forth, is rarely an unmixed one. A tangle of agreeable 
and disagreeable associates results in a mixed emotion, in 
which now the pleasurable, now the painful factor is up- 
permost. 

Differentiation of Emotion : Refinement. As the 
last result of this process of presentative-affective integra- 
tion, we have that growing differentiation of emotive masses 
which is one of the characteristic features of mental de- 
velopment. As an example, we may take the emergence 
of a feeling of anger proper out of the primitive undiffer- 
entiated baby-misery (as seen, for example, when the child 
is being dressed) ; and the differentiation of this early an- 
ger itself into many varieties of shade, as the feeling we 
cherish for a successful rival, for one who has injured us 
when wearing the mask of friendship, and so forth. This 
fine ramification of emotion is due to the ever-increasing 
differentiation of the integrated masses just spoken of. In 
the case of the more intellectual emotions — particularly, 
the aesthetic and moral sentiments — this differentiation 
reaches, in the case of cultivated persons, a specially high 
point. To be differently affected by two musical composers 
or two authors, to be differentially responsive to all the 
possible nuances of moral colouring in a lie, is the mark of 
a refined emotional nature. 

Varieties of Emotion. 

Classification of Emotive States : Order of De- 
velopment. It is customary in psychological works to 
attempt a systematic arrangement of the emotions in 
which the similarities and differences of psychological (/. <?., 
presentative-affective) character would be indicated by the 
proximity and the remoteness of the several groups. Such 
classifications are familiar to us in the classificatory branches 
of natural science, e.g., botany and zoology. 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 375 

A ground for such a classification appears to present 
itself in the fixed distinctions of common thought, which 
not only marks off pleasurable from painful emotion, e.g., 
joy from grief, but distinctively names particular modes 
of emotive excitation, e.g., fear, anger, pride. 

As soon, however, as we try to carry out any precise 
scientific division we find the difficulties insuperable. Ma- 
terial objects, as minerals or plants, are presented as separate 
things, and though the complexity of their affinities occa- 
sionally renders the placing of a particular form a matter 
of difficulty, a systematic arrangement of them in higher 
and lower classes is, in the main, practicable. Far other- 
wise is it with those psychical phenomena which we call 
emotions. What we call an emotion of fear is a changeful 
course of feeling which shows the greatest variations at 
different stages. Owing, too, to the complex structure of 
emotions, their affective tone may vary indefinitely through 
variations in the mode of composition. Thus the feelings 
which we commonly class together as emotions of joy and 
of grief will exhibit an infinite number of shades answering 
to the particular modes of presentative consciousness, and 
the particular currents of feeling to which these give rise. 
No precise systematic arrangement can therefore be at- 
tempted. 

The only thing that can be aimed at here is to mark off 
certain broad distinctions among emotive phenomena. As 
already hinted, the emotions distinctly named in common 
life, e.g., pride, love, have a well-marked differentiating 
bodily manifestation. These characteristic differences of 
corporeal resonance must, it is evident, be the main basis 
of any natural history arrangement. This, however, will 
have to be supplemented to some extent by a reference to 
differences in the mode of excitation, or the presentative 
phase of the emotive state. 

Having thus succeeded in marking off, roughly at least, 
the main varieties among our emotive states, we should 
proceed to deal with them in a progressive order. That is 
to say, we should seek to arrange them serially, so that 



376 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



simple forms might precede complex forms. This serial 
arrangement is possible up to a certain point. By analysis 
we can see that some emotions are constituted by the com- 
bination, in revived or ideal form, of other and simpler 
emotions. Thus the sentiment of justice embodies in a 
higher representative form, and takes up into itself some- 
thing of the flavour of the earlier and simpler passion of 
anger or resentment. 

Analysis does not, however, enable us to devise a per- 
fect serial arrangement of the emotions. We have then to 
fall back on a natural history study of the order of appear- 
ance. Here we shall have to do immediately and mainly 
with the typical development of the human individual, con- 
firming the results of our observation of this by what is 
known of the progressive manifestation of emotion in the 
development of the race and of the zoological series. 
This order will, it may be assumed, correspond in the 
main with the order of complexity or degree of representa- 
tiveness. 

Three Orders of Emotion. Without aiming at scien- 
tific precision and exhaustiveness where these seem to be 
excluded, we may group the more important varieties of 
emotive reaction under three stages of manifestation. 

(i) Under the first fall certain common unspecialised 
manifestations of pleasurable and painful feeling, which 
are best described by the current terms, Joy and Grief. 
As examples we may take the delight of the child in his 
bath, his fits of misery when in pain, and for a time after- 
wards. These are the emotions which first appear in the 
life of the individual and of the animal series. 

(2) Next to these common undifferentiated forms of 
emotive reaction come the specialised forms to which fre- 
quent reference has already been made. We may take 
anger, fear, and fondness or love as examples. These 
emotions appear in a clearly recognizable form later in the 
mental history of the individual than the first undifferen- 
tiated group. As based on special congenital arrange- 
ments and shared in by all the higher animals, these spe- 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 



377 



cialised emotions may be marked off as Instinctive or Ani- 
mal emotions. 

(3) As a third order of emotive states we have a group 
of feelings characterised by a high degree of prominence 
of the representative or ideational element. They may, 
roughly, at least, be marked off as Human feelings in con- 
tradistinction to the instinctive emotions common to man 
and animals just referred to. 

These Representative emotions, as they may be called, 
fall into two clearly-marked subdivisions. (a) Of these 
the first is Concrete representative emotion, or that mode 
of feeling which arises through an imaginative reinstate- 
ment of the original causes of an emotion. All "ideal 
emotion," as it has been called, e.g., the secondary emo- 
tions of anger, love, fear, excited by mere ideas of their ob- 
jects, would fall under this sub-group. There is, however, 
one mode of such representative feeling so well marked in 
its characters and so important that it may be singled out 
as the typical example of this variety of emotion. This 
feeling is Sympathy, that is, the imaginative entering into 
others' feelings through recallings of our own similar expe- 
riences. 

(b) The other subdivision of the representative emo- 
tions may be marked off as Abstract, because in the most 
highly developed consciousness of the educated adult they 
involve as a constituent factor an abstract idea. These are 
the feelings which grow up about and colour the idea of 
truth, of beauty, and of duty. These are more complex 
and later in their development than sympathy, and, as we 
shall see, they presuppose a certain development of the 
social feelings. They may be named the Abstract Senti- 
ments. 

The difficulties of classifying the emotions will at once be seen by re- 
ferring to one or two recent schemes. Hamilton {Lectures oti Metaphysics, 
ii. lect. xlv.) groups the feelings into the two genera, sensations (i. e., sense- 
feelings), and internal or mental feelings or sentiments. These last he 
subdivides into contemplative and practical, and carries his scheme fur- 
ther by distinguishing the contemplative feelings according to the intel- 
lectual faculty concerned, and the practical according to the active impulse 



378 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

engaged, e.g., self- and race-preservation. Dr. Bain {Mental and Moral 
Science, book iii. chap, ii.) proceeds by first marking off certain feelings, 
as novelty, mainly determined by change or transition (" emotions of rela- 
tivity"), and then setting forth certain well-recognised "genera," more 
particularly fear, anger, and love or tender emotion, passing from these as 
primary and original to the secondary and more composite emotions. A 
bolder attempt to exhibit a scale or serial order of emotion is to be found 
in Mr. Herbert Spencer's classification {Principles of Psychology, ii. pt. 
viii. chap. ii.). This arranges the feelings according to degree of repre- 
sentativeness (or indirectness of presentation) into the following stadia 
corresponding to those of cognition : (i) presentative feelings, i.e., actual 
sense-feelings ; (2) presentative-representative feelings, actual and revived 
sense-feelings ; (3) representative feelings, revived sense-feelings ; and (4) 
re-representative feelings, involving a more abstract or indirect mode of 
representation, as the sentiment of property. The mode of classification 
current in Germany is based on the distinction : (a) formal feelings, those 
not connected with any particular quality of presentation, but with the 
mode of interaction of presentations (including effects of relief and har- 
mony) ; and (b) qualitative feelings, those which depend on special quali- 
ties in presentation, and are subdivisible into sense-feelings and certain 
higher feelings (intellectual, aesthetic, etc.). In addition to these feelings 
proper, other mixed states involving an effect on conation, as fear, rage, 
etc., are recognised. 

(1) Characteristics of Joy and Grief. The common 
unspecialised forms of pleasurable and painful emotion 
illustrate on the somatic and expressive side the contrast 
of pleasurable and painful reaction already dealt with. 
Thus, the misery of the infant when hurt, when deprived 
of something, when disappointed, is, roughly speaking, one 
and the same kind of reaction. These common forms of 
joy and grief, happiness and misery, presuppose as excit- 
ants first of all the sense-feelings. Infantile wretchedness 
and gladness take their start in painful and pleasurable 
sensations. In the second place they involve those com- 
mon modes of central activity dealt with in the last chap- 
ter, more particularly the psycho-physical processes under- 
lying apprehension of. change, also of harmony and conflict 
among psychical elements. Hence they presuppose a meas- 
ure of representation, viz., that necessary to consciousness 
of relation in its simplest form. Thus the feelings of 
deprivation and of disappointment at not getting what is 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 379 

offered imply a rudimentary power of retentiveness and of 
anticipation. 

While the main characteristic of the group of emotions 
here referred to is this common agreeable or disagreeable 
complexion, they have as a subordinate factor certain more 
special and distinctive features, which grow more clearly 
manifest as development advances. Thus, the cross or 
vexed look of disappointment soon begins to distinguish 
itself from the hurt look of physical suffering. 

(2) Instinctive Emotions: Egoistic and Social 
Feelings. The characteristic feature of the instinctive 
emotions, the manifestation of which becomes definitely 
marked in the first year of life, is the automatic swiftness 
of the reaction, and the consequent fugitiveness of the 
representative factor. Indeed, these 'emotions' are in 
many cases, e.g., in infantile fondness, hardly distinguish- 
able from a complex of sense-feelings ; and in all cases the 
somatic reaction constitutes a main differentiating factor. 

We may subdivide these primitive instinctive emotions 
according as they have to do exclusively with the individual 
or concern others as well. In this way we get the current 
distinction of egoistic (or selfish) and social feelings; or 
since the social feelings are other-regarding as distin- 
guished from self-regarding, egoistic and " altruistic" feel- 
ings. Fear (of personal evil) would be an example of the 
former, love or tenderness towards offspring an example 
of the latter. 

This distinction, it is to be noted, is not wholly a psy- 
chological, but a biological and ethical one. It is because 
of the profound difference in the significance and purpose 
of the feelings, as subserving the preservation of the indi- 
vidual, and that of the community or race, that the distinc- 
tion has become fixed in psychology. 

The egoistic feelings are represented by the typical 
varieties, Fear and Anger. These, it is evident, have to do 
with individual preservation, avoidance of injury, resistance 
to attack. Hence they are the first to be manifested in the 
case alike of the child and of the animal series. Their 



380 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

deep-rooted instinctiveness is further seen in the difficulty 
which is experienced, even when civilization and education 
are added, in controlling the outburst when the provoking 
cause acts powerfully and directly, e.g., in a position of ap- 
palling danger, on receiving a personal assault. 

A transition from egoistic to social feeling is supplied 
by the emotion known as Love of Approbation or Praise. 
This emotion has, indeed, been called by H. Spencer an 
ego-altruistic feeling. Here we have a feeling which on 
the one hand subserves self-preservation, for the approval 
of others is an element of security; and, on the other hand, 
by recognizing a value in others' opinion, serves especially 
in the earlier stages of individual and of racial culture as 
a chief support of social institutions. 

Approbation and Self-feeling'. The love of others' approbation 
stands in close relation to what is known as self-feeling in its various 
forms, self-complacency, pride, and so forth. The relation is plainly seen 
in the great similarity of the manifestations, e.g., expression of self-satis- 
faction, of shame and humiliation. Self-feeling is frankly egoistic, and its 
first germ probably appears before love of approbation under the form of 
pleasurable contemplation of one's body, one's actions, etc. At the same 
time all the higher phases of the emotion are later, coming after the love 
of approbation, and, indeed, developed by the aid of a knowledge of what 
others say and think of us. These later developments arise in close con- 
nexion with the intellectual self-consciousness already dealt with. In its 
most complex form, as a moral appreciation of the dignity of the individual 
self, the self-feeling belongs to the highest products of intellectual and 
emotive development. 

Coming now to instinctive social feeling, we find that 
certain manifestations of sociality are common to the in- 
fant and to many of the lower animals. Thus there is a 
feeling of satisfaction when near the parent (or the herd), 
and of dissatisfaction when away. We have to infer from 
these manifestations that there is an instinctive craving for 
companionship. In the case of the human offspring this 
feeling takes on a special display in the early and partly 
instinctive attachment to the mother. The relation in- 
volved in the nutrition of the child, a relation only a de- 
gree less close than that of the foetus to the maternal 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 38 1 

organism, constitutes in itself the chief source of the feel- 
ing. Along with the supply of nutriment there goes that 
of warmth, support, or propping, which again is a con- 
tinuation of the fcetal dependence. This first instinctive or 
sensuous attachment of the child grows into what we call 
fondness by the complication of the instinctive feeling with 
numerous "ideal" or transferred feelings, the product of 
the many pleasurable sensations, including those of the eye 
and of the ear, of which the mother is the source. The 
mass of feeling thus formed constitutes a true emotion, and 
one which has its own distinctive or specialised manifesta- 
tion, caressing touches, etc. Modifications of this reaction 
enter into later forms of love. 

So far we have spoken only of one ingredient in social 
feeling, viz., fondness or liking for others' presence. This, 
as we have seen, is largely an outgrowth from egoistic feel- 
ings and cravings {e. g., nutriment, protection). True so- 
ciality implies more than such fondness, viz., sympathy or 
fellow-feeling. 

This sympathy, again, appears in a vague animal form, 
in close connexion with instinctive attachment. Thus gre- 
garious animals are affected sympathetically by hearing 
one another's cries. The child has a kind of ' physical ' 
sympathy with its mother. This effect may be marked off 
as the contagion of feeling, or as Imitative Sympathy. 
Such a feeling does not involve any distinct consciousness 
of others' feelings as theirs, still less any concern to lessen 
their sufferings. This last, the feeling of sympathy prop- 
erly so called, presupposes experience and the develop- 
ment of representation or ideation. To this we may now 
turn. 

(3) Representative Emotion : Sympathy. A true 
feeling of sympathy, or ' fellow-feeling ' (from Greek trvv 
and 7ra#os), only arises when we imaginatively represent and 
distinctly ' realise ' another's affective state by help of pre- 
vious similar experiences of our own. Hence the feeling 
in all its more articulate and refined forms is confined to 
the higher grades of human culture. The savasfe is almost 



382 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

as destitute of what we mean by sympathy as the lower 
animals. The child is singularly deficient in the power of 
entering into the feelings of another so as to identify him- 
self with that person, and the development of this power 
comes only with the processes of social culture, including 
moral education. 

It follows from this brief description of the feeling that 
it presupposes first of all personal experiences of pleasure 
and pain, and the ideal reproduction of these. A child can- 
not sympathise with his parents and others until he has ac- 
cumulated a certain stock of emotive memories. Thus he 
must have been angry a good many times on his own ac- 
count before he feels sympathetic indignation on another's 
account. Sympathy is thus always a revival of past feel- 
ing, and, as already suggested, one of the main typical 
forms of ' ideal emotion.' Hence we place it after the in- 
stinctive emotions. 

Now we have seen that a main factor in each of our 
emotive states is the cycle of organic effects making up its 
so-called physical embodiment. When an emotion is rein- 
stated by an ideational process this organic factor is apt to 
recur also in its original sensational form, and so lend the 
revived feeling a sensuous basis. Hence the well-known 
fact that sympathetic emotion often rises to the full in- 
tensity, etc., of the corresponding personal feeling. The 
sympathetic person is glad, angry, and so forth, with his 
friend, much as if he were personally concerned; the sym- 
pathetic actor of Lear or of Ophelia feels much as if he or 
she were personally overtaken by the calamity depicted. 
On the other hand, sympathy is much more than a repro- 
duced personal emotion. It arises through representation 
of another's state, which representation is in many cases 
an elaborate intellectual process. Thus, in order to sym- 
pathise with another, we must carry out processes of con- 
structive imagination, ' building up ' an idea of the circum- 
stances, of the type of character involved, and of the effect 
of the former on the latter. All the higher and more pene- 
trating sympathy thus involves considerable intellectual in- 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 383 

sight, and is indeed closely akin to the understanding of 
others' minds and characters. 

While sympathy and intellectual apprehension are thus closely related, 
they are not identical. In each case there is the representation of another's 
mind or feeling, but the mode of representation differs. In sympathising 
with a person we are occupied with his feelings as such, and are ourselves in 
a like emotive state ; in understanding him we are intellectually active, 
fixing our attention on the relations (causal, etc.) of his mental state. 
Hence we can often understand passions and impulses, e.g., a homicidal 
hate, without a full sympathetic realisation of them. 

Sympathy, though primarily a feeling, stands in close 
organic connexion with active impulse, viz., the desire to 
further the happiness of others. We may be momentarily 
affected by another's suffering without bestirring ourselves 
to relieve it; but if sympathy gains a firm hold on us it 
tends to work itself out into beneficent effort. This tend- 
ency is plainly seen in the complex psychical state known 
as pity or compassion, which always involves a nascent 
impulse to console, if only by a word. This active phase 
of sympathy is recognised by moralists under the head of 
benevolence, disinterestedness, altruism. 

The development of sympathy follows certain lines 
answering to special interests and directions of attention. 
The child begins to sympathise with those animals and 
human beings with whom it is habitually thrown. Liking, 
or fondness, is a great determining factor in sympathy : 
we can all sympathise most readily with those whom we 
like. This truth is sufficiently illustrated in all the familiar 
language of the social feelings; for 'love,' 'affection,' and 
so forth, clearly include liking a?id fellow-feeling. Thus 
the child's love for the mother is never merely an egoistic 
feeling, i.e., a reflex of personal satisfaction, but includes 
from the first an element of instinctive or imitative sym- 
pathy ; and under normal conditions this blind instinct de- 
velops later into a true conscious sympathy. 

In its later and more comprehensive forms sympathy 
detaches itself from personal liking and grows into an inde- 
pendent sentiment, viz., that of humanity. Here we have 



384 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

an impulse to enter into human experience as such, apart 
from the attractive or repellent character of the particular 
subject. Such a wholly non-personal or 'abstract ' senti- 
ment of humanity, though it is approximated to in the phi- 
lanthropy of a Howard, is never perfectly attained. 

(4) The Abstract Sentiments. Sympathy, though a 
representative feeling, is eminently concrete. In order to 
sympathise there must be a real living creature, or at least 
its fictitious imitation. The excitants and objects of sym- 
pathy are concrete psychical states in particular indi- 
viduals. It is only in its later and more subtle form, the 
feeling for humanity in general, that we discern a tendency 
to take on something of a general or abstract character. 

This tendency in feeling to transfer itself from a con- 
crete to an abstract form of representation is seen still 
more clearly in the case of certain emotions which we have 
marked off as abstract sentiments. Philosophers have long 
since familiarised us with the notion that there are three 
main types of objective worth or of ideal end, which are 
valid for all minds alike, and answer to the three main 
directions of mental activity. These are : Truth, the ob- 
jective correlate of intellection ; Beauty, the objective cor- 
relate of feeling (in its purest form) ; and what the ancients 
called the Good and we moderns usually envisage under 
the narrower aspect of the Right, the ideal end of human 
action or endeavour. Corresponding to each of these ab- 
stract ideal conceptions there is a peculiar feeling. Thus 
we commonly speak of the love of truth, or knowledge, the 
feeling of the beautiful, and the sentiment of duty. These 
feelings are known as the logical, the sesthetical, and the 
ethical sentiment. 

The general characteristic of these sentiments is that 
they are highly representative, the outcome of complex 
processes of combination and transference. As such they 
are far removed from the instinctive emotions, and are 
wanting in the energetic manifestation, and in the well- 
marked organic resonance of. these last. The term "senti- 
ment " as distinguished from " emotion " appears to indicate 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 385 

this quiet, contemplative character of the whole mental at- 
titude. 

Since these feelings in their fully-developed form presup- 
pose considerable representative power, and some progress 
in abstract thought, we shall expect to find them appearing 
late in the development of mind. Germs of the feelings do 
indeed show themselves far down in the evolution of the in- 
dividual and of the race, and are even to be observed in the 
lower animals. Thus the aesthetic feeling has its humble 
root in that sensuous delight in colour and tone which the 
baby shares with birds and other animals. But it is only in 
the higher stages of human life that these sentiments take on 
their richer and more complex form. As feelings attaching 
to objects of common worth they presuppose, indeed, the 
development of social life and of the higher human inter- 
ests. In the case of the race and of the individual. alike, the 
love of truth, the sentiment of duty, and the feeling for the 
beautiful, are only developed when the sphere of egoistic 
feeling has been transcended, the sympathies awakened and 
deepened, and so a large enjoyment in common rendered 
possible. 

(a) The Intellectual and Logical Feelings. By the 
logical, or, as some call it, the intellectual sentiment, is 
meant in its most general signification that group of feelings 
which accompanies the intellective processes as such, and 
which culminates in the love of knowledge or of truth. 

Here, it is obvious, we must not look, at least in its or- 
dinary manifestations, for any of that emotive excitement 
or agitation which we find in the case of the instinctive 
emotions. The logical sentiment, just because it is feeling 
bound up with intellectual processes, which as such necessi- 
tate a certain calmness of mood, is a tranquil affective state. 

It may be said in general that intellectual activity only 
yields a considerable feeling of enjoyment when the common 
conditions dealt with above, viz., quantity of activity, con- 
trast and relief, and harmonious adjustment of opposing 
elements, are present in a marked degree. The carrying 
out of the intellectual processes, the intenter acts of obser- 
25 



38.6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

vation, the search for ideas, and so forth, are commonly 
accompanied by disagreeable concomitants — a feeling of 
strain, of difficulty, of obstacle to movement. Hence, 
though the quest of truth has its own peculiar delight, this 
comes mostly as a reward for a previous endurance of dis- 
agreeables. 

Intellectual feeling is in the main an example of that 
common manifestation of joy and sorrow, elation and de- 
pression, already dealt with. It is only in those cases 
where a special attitude of attention, and as the concomi- 
tant of this a particular group of muscular effects, are in- 
volved that we get a characteristic physical embodiment, 
as in the look of wonder, the well-known manifestation of 
mental perplexity, and so forth. 

The simplest manifestation of an intellectual feeling 
meets us in the attitude of surprise. The feeling of surprise 
reaches some way down in the scale of animal life, and is 
one of the first emotions which are distinctly manifested 
by the child. The immediate effect here is a disagreeable 
feeling, mental shock or disturbance, due to a sudden pres- 
entation of something for which attention is not prepared. 
A secondary effect is the calling forth of a self-preservative 
reaction, viz., the intensified look by help of which the 
strange, unexpected object becomes clearly apprehended. 
This intensified attention, which gives the characteristic ex- 
pression, is the source of agreeable feelings, first of height- 
ened activity, then of relief, of self-readjustment, and of 
intellectual mastery. 

If, instead of being merely unexpected at the moment, 
the object is strange and unfamiliar, the feeling of surprise 
passes into the more prolonged state of wonder or astonish- 
ment. Here we have new affective elements, growing out 
of nascent processes of reproduction and comparison. Thus 
when we are astonished at a strange or rare phenomenon, 
as an eclipse, we are affected by the fact of novelty or of 
rarity. This realisation of something new and extraordi- 
nary is in itself exhilarating, and, under favourable circum- 
stances, we find wonder manifesting itself as a distinctly 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 387 

pleasurable elation involving an energetic and prolonged 
reaction of attention. 

■ The bare feeling of wonder does not amount to an in- 
tellectual emotion properly so called. Indeed, since the 
excitement of wonder depends on the mystery of the phe- 
nomenon, it may readily oppose the process of intellectual 
assimilation or understanding. This is what happens 
whenever the love of the marvellous so intoxicates the vul- 
gar mind as to lead it to resent a scientific explanation of 
occult natural phenomena. At the same time, the feeling 
of wonder, through the preternatural reaction of attention 
or mental fixation called forth, is on the whole a powerful 
stimulus to inquiry. The impulse to "take in," assimilate, 
or comprehend becomes specially excited in presence of 
what is strange and foreign to our minds. And, as a matter 
of fact, we find, in the evolution of the race and of the in- 
dividual, curiosity developing into a strong and effective 
impulse of inquisitive search as a reaction on some new 
wonder-exciting presentation. 

The intellectual feeling proper, that is, the feeling at- 
tending the process of intellection, only grows distinct 
when curiosity or the desire for knowledge is sufficiently 
developed to prompt to a prolonged effort of search. Here 
it takes on the form of a delight in intellectual pursuit for 
its own sake, the feeling known to the lover of witty talk. 

Along with this general pleasure in intellectual activity 
there are special moods of gratification corresponding to 
the different functional activities of intellection. To see 
the real point of difference between two things, to connect 
an event with its concomitants in time, brings its peculiar 
satisfaction. Of these special varieties of intellective pleas- 
ure the most considerable is that which attends the work- 
ings of assimilation. To wake up to a resemblance between 
two things hitherto kept apart by our mind is always agree- 
able; and in the case of such far-reaching strokes of as- 
similation as scientific law and poetic simile present to us, 
the revelation may affect us with the exhilaration of a joy- 
ous surprise. 



388 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



The pleasure derived from assimilation is closely akin 
to the logical satisfaction of harmonising our ideas. Here, 
as pointed out above, the starting-point is the sense of 
logical antagonism or contradiction between facts or our 
apprehensions of these, the pleasurable feeling of consist- 
ency and unity coming in on the removal of such discrep- 
ancies. This logical sentiment of consistency is the highest 
form of the intellectual feeling, appearing only as the result 
of intellectual culture and logical self-discipline. 

(£>) The -(Esthetic Sentiment. The second of the 
Abstract Sentiments, variously called the feeling for the 
beautiful, the pleasures of taste, and the fine-art sentiment, 
includes a group of feelings having a marked degree of 
pleasurableness, and constituting indeed one main source of 
the more refined enjoyment of human life.* Although, as 
we shall presently see, they have their root in certain sim- 
ple sensuous effects which appear in the earliest stages of 
human culture, and even in animal life they constitute in 
their fuller and more complex form emotions of a highly 
representative grade which are confined to civilised com- 
munities and to the upper levels of culture. 

The enjoyment of what is beautiful differs both in the 
mode of its origin and in its psychical features and accom- 
paniments from the feeling for knowledge or truth. It is 
a fuller, or deeper pleasure, freer from disagreeable elements, 
and more of a luxury. In seeking knowledge we are aim- 
ing at something more or less directly useful, and we find 
the pursuit in certain of its stages arduous and even pain- 
ful. In giving ourselves up to the beauty of a natural 
scene, or to the charms of music, we have done with all 
thought of utility, and are seeking enjoyment as children 
seek it in their play, for its own sake. Or, as some modern 
writers have it, aesthetic pleasure is the accompaniment of 

* Of course, the aesthetic sensibility is like other sensibilities, two-fold, 
including not only the agreeable effect of beauty but the disagreeable 
effect of the ' un-beautiful,' if one may coin a word, that is, the ugly. 
Only as art aims at the realisation of the former, we naturally give this 
aspect the prominence. 



COMrLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 



389 



play-like activity, that is to say, activity not used up in 
carrying out the necessary (self-preserving and race-pre- 
serving) functions of life. 

What is commonly understood by beauty appeals to us 
through one of the two higher senses, sight and hearing.* 
And the pleasure produced is wholly due to the particular 
grouping of sense-impressions supplied, together with certain 
suggestions which these excite immediately in the minds of 
all spectators alike, such as the health suggested by a rosy 
cheek, or the force expressed by a cataract. In other words, 
the pleasure arising from an impression of beauty is wholly 
the outcome of the attitude of contemplation: and as such 
is disinterested, that is, free from reference to self and its 
concerns. Thus a mother's delight in looking at her child, 
so far as it depends on the consciousness of its being hers, is ex- 
cluded from the category of properly aesthetic pleasure. 

From these conditions of aesthetic pleasure flow some 
of its most valuable characteristics. Of these the first is its 
prerogative as pleasure. The enjoyment of the beautiful 
is, among all our pleasures, the purest and the richest in re- 
spect of the variety of its elements, and this peculiarity 
seems to be connected with the particular channels of sense 
employed. The higher senses, as compared with the lower, 
are, as we have seen, free from disagreeable elements. Not 
only are, they wanting in such unpleasant antecedents and 
consequents as the craving and the satiety which mar the 
enjoyments of appetite, they are relatively weak in painful 
elements. With this purity of delight there goes special 
fulness and richness, that is, variety and complexity of 
pleasure. This is in part connected with the rapid recupera- 
tion of the higher sense-organs, and their susceptibility to 
prolonged stimulation without loss of functional vigour or 
the disagreeable sense of fatigue. The quiet contemplation 
of the world of sights, and in a less obvious degree that of 
sounds also, is an entertainment which we can take up and 

* The close connexion of the aesthetic sentiment with the senses is 
seen in the etymology of the name (from Greek ai<rdr\<ns, sense-appre- 
hension). 



390 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



prolong as we will. In addition to this prolongability of 
the higher sense-pleasures there is the important circum- 
stance that both sight and hearing supply not only a wide 
variety of pleasurable sensuous effect, colours, tones, but 
offer peculiarly favourable conditions for the pleasurable 
appreciation of harmonious relations among their elements. 

As a second main distinguishing characteristic of aesthetic 
pleasure we have its high degree of shareability or range of 
participation. The delights of art are common forms of 
enjoyment. This feature, too, is explained by a reference 
to the determining conditions. Thus it is noticeable that the 
two senses concerned are precisely those which, being acted 
upon by objects at a distance (and not, as in the case of touch, 
by objects in contact with the organism), can be simultane- 
ously stimulated in the case of a number of persons by one 
and the same objective stimulus, as when an assembly 
watches the same dramatic spectacle, or listens to the same 
musical performance. Again as accompaniments of the at- 
titude of disinterested contemplation the pleasures of beauty 
and art lend themselves, best of all pleasures, to a wide and 
impartial distribution, and to the deepening and enriching 
effect of mutual sympathy. We may indeed say that art- 
pleasures are the most valuable of all our social or common 
enjoyments. 

As already suggested, aesthetic pleasure is highly com- 
plex. Its main constituents may be conveniently grouped 
under three heads, (i) Of these the first may be called the 
sensuous or material element, that is, the pleasurable aspect 
of the sensations involved. The enjoyment of bright light, 
of lustre, of the various gradations of colour, of the linear 
elements of form, also of musical tone, and of the allied 
effects in articulate sound, forms a fundamental portion of 
the delight in beautiful objects. The large scale of sensational 
quality supplied by colours and tones gives to the sensuous 
element in the impression of art a special value. Indeed it 
may be said that not only in the earlier stages of aesthetic 
development, but throughout, the sensuous effect is the 
basis of all aesthetic enjoyment. 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 391 

(2) As a second constituent we have the relational or 
formal element, that is, the agreeable effect due to certain 
modes of grouping the sensuous elements. The aesthetic 
value of such grouping depends on a union of the two prin- 
ciples already pointed out, variety, including contrast, and 
harmony, or peaceful co-ordination of diverse elements. 
Such a satisfying arrangement of elements may have to 
do with relations of sensuous quality, as in the harmonious 
distribution of colours, the melodic and harmonic combina- 
tions of tones : or it may concern itself with agreeable dis- 
tributions of material in the forms of space and time, as in 
the effects of symmetry and proportion in the visual arts, 
and in the rhythmical arrangements of melody and verse. 

(3) In the two constituents already considered, we have 
been occupied with the presentative features and relations, 
or what has been called the " direct " factor in aesthetic 
impression. In addition to this there is the representative, 
or " indirect '' factor. This consists of that large and im- 
portant part of the aesthetic effect which arises from asso- 
ciation, suggestion, or the play of imagination. Thus it 
will include the ideal suggestions of the several varieties 
of colour and tone themselves, also the common associa- 
tions of concrete objects, as of the fragile maiden-hair 
fern, the sublime Alpine crag; further, the expressive sig- 
nificance of presentations, as the utterance of life and feel- 
ing in tones, natural or musical, and in a less obvious man- 
ner in the colours and forms of objects, as seen in the sen- 
timents attaching to the pale lily, glowing rose, and so 
forth ; and finally, all the emotive effects connected with 
the ideational processes excited, the group of effects spe- 
cially marked off as the pleasures of the imagination. 

The growth of the feeling of beauty follows, to some 
extent, the order of our analysis. In the evolution of the 
race and of the individual, the feeling for bright colour 
precedes the delight in symmetrical form, and the ideal or 
associative element, so far as it involves experience and re- 
flexion upon this, appears latest of all. It follows, too, 
from our brief analysis, that the aesthetic feeling will grow 



2 9 2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

in complexity as the mind develops on its intellective and 
emotive side. Thus a finer, more discriminative eye or ear 
brings with it a larger and more various enjoyment of 
colour or tone effects ; and a stronger grasp of relations 
and a finer measurement secures a fuller and a subtler ap- 
preciation of proportion, of rhythm, and so forth. Lastly, 
widening experience and deepening knowledge will serve 
to invest objects with a richer suggestiveness. The effect 
of such ideational accumulation is very apparent in all the 
higher effects of modern art, which appeals to a knowledge 
of history, of literature, and even of the laws of nature. 

(c) The Moral Sentiment. As the third main variety 
of abstract sentiment we have the moral or ethical senti- 
ment. By this is meant the feeling which attaches itself to 
the idea of right or duty, and is commonly spoken of as 
the sense of duty, or of moral approbation and disappro- 
bation ; and, in one of its most important manifestations, 
as conscience. 

Here, it is at once evident, we have a feeling which, 
while on the same level of development as the other two 
sentiments just examined, presents marked differences from 
these. In its common form, approval of what is right, dis- 
approval of what is wrong, the sentiment has something in 
common with the aesthetic feeling. Like this, it is excited 
by a contemplation, purely disinterested (/. e., free from all 
reference to self and its interests), of certain attributes or 
relations in given objects. We are immediately pleased 
when observing or imagining a morally good action, just 
as when we are observing or imagining a beautiful object. 
Yet the exciting quality and the resulting feeling are widely 
different. Moral approval or disapproval differs from aes- 
thetic in that it always fastens on a human action, whether 
another's or our own, and on that particular aspect or rela- 
tion of the action which we call its Tightness or wrong- 
ness. It is thus pre-eminently a practical, i. <?., action-con- 
trolling, feeling. 

Again, the moral sentiment is regulative or magisterial, 
having as its essential characteristic a consciousness of 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 393 

claim or obligation. Other practical feelings, e.g., the ego- 
istic feeling of ambition, are wanting in this distinctive 
feature. It may be added that as a regulative judicial feel- 
ing the moral sentiment is inferior in pleasurableness to 
the aesthetic, being indeed much more intense on its painful 
side (moral ^approbation). 

One characteristic remains to be noted. The moral sen- 
timent is pre-eminently a social sentiment. The social 
consciousness, the feeling of solidarity of the self and the 
community, is still more distinct and prominent in moral 
approbation than in aesthetic admiration or intellectual 
gratification. To feel the claims of duty is to realise in a 
peculiarly clear manner our relations to the community. 

The moral, like the aesthetic, sentiment is a product of 
various constituent feelings. Thus, to begin with (1) What 
we call morality, though essentially a social feeling, has 
one of its roots in the egoistic feelings. The individual's 
regard for others, his desire to do his duty by others, pre- 
supposes the instinctive, self-preserving impulses dealt with 
above. Thus the peculiar feeling of condemnation of a 
wrong action can be traced down to the instinctive reac- 
tion of a purely individual or egoistic resentment. (2) Next 
to this instinctive base in the egoistic feelings we have as 
an important contributing element the semi-social (ego- 
altruistic) feelings, viz., the regard for others' opinion, the 
dislike of blame, and the love of praise. This is a power- 
ful aid to morality, especially in the early stages of moral 
development, alike in the race and in the individual. (3) 
The highest element in the moral sentiment is sympathy, 
that is, regard for others' welfare for its own sake. Since 
morality is concerned with others, with the needs and claims 
of our fellow-creatures, it is evident that a disinterested 
regard for it implies the existence of this purely social feel- 
ing of sympathy. Hence we never find the moral senti- 
ment developing when the social feelings are wanting. 

The feelings just enumerated would not of themselves 
constitute a sense of duty. As already remarked, the pe- 
culiar shade of sentiment indicated by this expression in- 



394 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



volves the recognition of an external or objective claim. 
Such a claim asserts itself and makes itself felt in the first 
instance, alike in the history of the race and of the indi- 
vidual, through what we call authority, or the imposition 
of commands by a superior will (that of the tribal chief or 
head, of the parent). 

The evolution of the moral sentiment follows a similar 
course in the case of the race and of the individual. Con- 
fining our attention to the individual, we find a certain basis 
for morality in the instinctive feelings of the child. Thus, 
as we have seen, the child has an instinctive tendency not 
only to seek others' society, but, what is far more impor- 
tant in the present connexion, to desire the good opinion 
of others. These constitute in themselves a natural bias 
towards morality. When normally circumstanced, more- 
over, i. e., educated in a home, he finds himself acted upon 
by a system of government or authority with definite com- 
mands, backed by punishments and rewards. These will 
operate, in the first instance, on his egoistic feelings. He 
does what he is told in order to avoid the pain of punish- 
ment, or to earn the promised reward. At the same time, 
this apparatus of authority gives a definite direction to the 
instinctive workings of his social or semi-social impulses. 
Thus the innate impulse to win others' approval becomes 
fixed and in a measure moralised, as a desire to carry out 
lines of action uniformly approved by those whose good 
opinion is sought. In this way a sentiment of reverence 
for command or law is to some extent developed. 

This crude, indistinct feeling of reverence becomes 
clearer as experience widens, the social feelings proper, i. e., 
affection and sympathy, expand, and individual reflexion is 
added. Thus the growth of a feeling of affection for and 
of trust in the parental governor will lead the child to take 
his commands as something acceptable or good. In the 
early stages of moral growth, when obedience is very much 
respect for a particular person rather than for an abstract 
law, this force of affection counts for much. Hence the 
importance of early home-training in morality, when the 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 



39': 



source of commands is also the person fitted by his or her 
other relations with the child to call forth his first warm 
affection. In order, however, that this feeling may become 
a true respect for morality as such, the general validity of 
the commands upon the child must be recognised, and this 
recognition comes by living with others under a common 
customary rule. 

The last stage in this development is reached when the 
grounds of such uniform subjection to law begin to be 
understood. Here the growth of sympathy and of rational 
reflexion is all-important. It is when the child enters into 
others' feelings that he sees why he has to do this action as 
right, and to abstain from that action as wrong. As was 
shown above, it is sympathy which brings home or makes 
real to each of us the existence of our fellow-creatures 
with feelings, interests, and aims like our own. Hence it 
is by a growth and expansion of sympathy that the child 
comes to grasp the social bearings of his actions, as the 
injury he does another by an explosion of anger, by an 
underhand trick, and so forth. It is by a like expansion 
of sympathy that he comes to feel hurt when somebody 
else does an injury to another. 

It is evident, from this brief sketch of the development 
of the moral feeling, that, like the intellectual and the aes- 
thetic sentiment, it presupposes a considerable growth of 
intelligence. Mere feeling, apart from thought, would not 
yield the moral sentiment or moral consciousness as we 
know it. The "sense" of duty is a product of egoistic and 
social feeling with processes of reflexion and comparison 
added. It is by the more complex apprehension of others' 
feelings, others' desires ' along with my own,' and by care- 
ful measurement of the several claims of this, that, and the 
other person, that all the higher and more refined forms of 
moral sentiments become possible. 

The Culture of the Feelings. We have seen that in 
the history of psychology feeling has been very much 
ignored and has only recently been erected into a main 
constituent of mind. As a result of this we find that in 



3 9 6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the counsels given to men for the direction of their own 
and others' minds, while much has been written on the con- 
duct of the understanding, and on moral discipline, com- 
paratively little has been said respecting the culture of the 
feelings. Nevertheless, it is coming to be recognized that 
the fostering of the higher forms of feeling, viz., the emo- 
tions, constitutes an important branch of self-culture, as 
also of the education of the young. 

The peculiar place and function of feeling in the econ- 
omy of mind suggest that the end of emotive culture will 
be a complex or many-sided one. Thus, owing to the or- 
ganic connexion of feeling with intellection, and the de- 
pendence of all intellectual activity on interest, the develop- 
ment of the feelings in certain directions enters into all 
that is commonly called intellectual training. Even the 
comparatively cold processes of scientific observation are 
sustained by powerful, if tranquil, currents of emotion. 
Still more obviously is the culture of feeling attached on 
another side to moral discipline. Indeed, it is under this 
head that the education of the feelings (more particularly 
the social and the moral) has commonly been treated. At 
the same time no conception of emotive culture is adequate 
which does not regard the feelings as having their own in- 
trinsic value. 

Feeling as pleasure and pain is the raw material of our 
happiness, and as such deserves special attention. In the 
measure in which our emotive sensibilities correspond with 
the circumstances of our lives, are we likely to be happy 
or the opposite. The idea of the intrinsic worth of feeling 
has grown distinct in our modern ideals of life with their 
tendency to emphasise the subjective aspect of human ex- 
perience. A large range of refined feeling is now recog- 
nized as one main essential in a fully developed and cult- 
ured mind. 

Now we have seen that feeling, whether considered on 
its own account or in its connexions with the other mental 
functions, has very unequal value according to the form 
which it assumes. Thus, all violent and excessive feeling 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 



397 



or passionateness, a leading feature of the animal and the 
undisciplined child, is hurtful in a number of ways, inter- 
fering at once with physical health, with calm logical re- 
flexion, with that equability of temper which is a main con- 
dition of happiness ; being further an unlovely spectacle to 
others, and incompatible with the ideal of a beautiful well- 
regulated mind. Again, the earlier lower feelings, espe- 
cially those connected with bodily appetite and the instinct- 
ive passions, have a lower value from the point of view of 
individual and of moral well-being alike than the repre- 
sentative emotions. They are, moreover, precisely those 
which owing to their powerful organic basis are apt to run 
into violent excess. Hence one part of the management of 
the feelings concerns itself with a due control of passion 
and appetite. This negative side of feeling-culture depends 
directly on the strengthening of intellect and will in those 
processes known as self-control, a matter to be dealt with 
later on. The positive branch of feeling-culture aims at de- 
veloping and deepening the higher and more tranquil and 
intellectual feelings, viz., the emotions of sympathy, art, 
etc. It is by the growth of these more refined feelings and 
the related interests, as companionship, literature, humani- 
tarian effort, that the individual best escapes from the 
primal tyranny of the egoistic passions. What we more 
particularly mean by a refined mind is one which seeks its 
pleasure in connexion with these intellectual and human 
interests rather than in the satisfaction of animal impulses. 
So much as to the end of emotive culture. With re- 
spect to the means to be used it is much less easy to be 
definite. Feeling is a side of our nature which seems at 
first sight to refuse to lend itself to the agencies of culture. 
Whether a man is sympathetic, finds enjoyment in the 
beauties of colour and tone, and so forth, seems to be a 
matter of organisation and temperament rather than of 
education. No doubt the organic basis of feeling is a great 
limiting condition of all emotive development. Yet feel- 
ing, like the other functional activities of mind, is suscepti- 
ble of improvement by exercise, and, as we have seen, 



398 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

develops through the action of experience and association, 
supplemented by inner processes of reflexion. 

In aiming at developing feeling in oneself or in another 
we naturally begin by supplying the necessary external con- 
ditions. Thus, the feelings which attach themselves to 
others, e. g., emulation, affection, are developed by daily- 
companionship. If we want to be sociable we must live a 
social life. In like manner, a youth who is to enjoy the 
manifold beauty of things must be brought under its spell, 
that is to say, surrounded by beautiful objects. We all 
know the powerful effect of a tasteful home on the aesthetic 
feelings of children. Among these external conditions or 
excitants of feeling a prominent place must be given to the 
manifestations of feeling in others. Children, through the 
mechanism of imitative sympathy, are wont to take on 
those modes of feeling which they find expressed by those 
about them; and all of us tend to react most simply and 
powerfully in directions corresponding to the customary 
emotive manifestations of our surroundings. 

A second chief agency in this education of the feelings 
is the carrying out of the involved intellective processes. Since 
all the more complex and refined forms of emotion are 
bound up with processes of observation and reflection, we 
may further the growth of these feelings indirectly by suit- 
able intellectual exercises. Thus we may improve our 
capacity to enjoy art and literature by exercising our 
minds in singling out and attending to the features which 
give them their aesthetic value, as the constituents of beauti- 
ful form, the special directions of imaginative activity in- 
volved, say in a sublime metaphor. Such effort at emotive 
culture should further be aided by careful study of what 
others have seen in these works, of the writings of those 
who possess the gift of aesthetic insight, and, further, the 
philosophic faculty of laying bare the general principles on 
which all normal aesthetic impression depends. Such a 
study of the best criticism on its appreciative and its an- 
alytical side will help us further to form our standards of 
tastes, and so to carry out better the processes of aesthetic 



COMPLEX FEELINGS: EMOTIONS. 399 

judgment. Similar considerations apply {mutatis mutandis) 
to the cultivation of the moral sentiment and judgment. 

The Educational Control of the Feelings. It follows from what 
has just been said that the problem of working beneficially on the feelings 
of the child is one of the most difficult in the science of education. 

To begin with the negative side of the process, to subdue the force of 
childish feeling, is in some respects a peculiarly difficult work. The emo- 
tional outbursts of the young are apt to be marked by great violence. 
Moreover, the great agency by which, as we shall see by-and-by, the force 
of emotion is checked and counteracted, namely, an effort of self-restraint; 
cannot be relied on in the case of young children, owing to the feebleness 
of their wills. On the other hand, the mobility of the child's mind, and 
the modifiability of his states of feeling, offer certain facilities to the educa- 
tor by enabling him to divert a child's attention away from the causes or 
excitants of feeling. 

In addition to seeking to subdue the force of undesirable feelings when 
actually excited, the wise educator will aim at weakening the underlying 
sensibilities. In some cases he has to take care that feelings needing re- 
pression are not too powerfully excited. A timid child should be shielded 
to some extent from circumstances likely to excite terror. Again, feelings 
may be weakened by strengthening the intellectual side of the child's 
mind, adding to his knowledge and exercising his powers of reflection 
and judgment. In this way, for example, groundless terror will be under 
mined, and the violence of grief and anger mitigated. Finally, the weak- 
ening or deadening of an undesirable feeling may often be most effectively 
carried out by exciting some opposed mode of feeling. Thus, every exer- 
cise of a sentiment of regard for others' good qualities tends to enfeeble a 
child's conceit. 

Coming now to the positive or stimulative side of the educational pro- 
cess, we may say that just as the instinctive and animal feelings require to 
be weakened, so sympathy and the higher sentiments need to be strength- 
ened. Since feeling, like the other mental functions, grows by exercise, 
the problem of education is how to call forth these higher emotional sus- 
ceptibilities into full and vigorous play. There are two things which the 
educator can do here. (1) First of all the child may be introduced to ob- 
jects, circumstances, modes of activity, which are fitted to excite a par- 
ticular feeling. Thus objects may be presented, in real life or in story, 
which are fitted to excite his sympathy. Finally, by inducing him to put 
forth his activities we may set him in the way of acquiring experiences, 
and discovering new modes of pleasure. In this manner an indolent, un- 
ambitious child may be roused to activity by a first taste of the pleasures 
of success, and the delight of well-earned commendation. (2) In the 
second place, much may be done by the habitual manifestation of a par- 
ticular feeling by those who constitute the child's social environment- 



400 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Children tend through imitative sympathy to reflect the feelings they see 
expressed by their parents, teachers, and young companions. Hence the 
importance of the social surroundings as one main influence in the devel- 
opment of a child's emotional nature. 

Special educational problems arise in connection with the several va- 
rieties of feeling. Thus with respect to the sense-feelings (including appe- 
tite) and the lower instinctive emotions, the educator has to aim first of all 
at restraining and keeping within due bounds. Yet even here the prob- 
lem is not merely a negative one. Thus the emotions which grow up 
about self are needful for the child's continued existence and success in 
the struggle for life, so that it would be foolish and vain to try to eradicate 
them. In some cases, indeed, these feelings may even be deficient and 
require positive stimulation. There are listless and lethargic children in 
whom it may ba well to try and rouse the feelings of pride, ambition, and 
emulation. 

Even when there is no special deficiency in these feelings the educator 
has not so much to repress them as to direct them to higher objects or as- 
pects of objects, He seeks to transform them by refining them. Thus he 
aims at leading the child up from the fear of physical evil to the fear of 
moral evil ; from the enjoyment of bodily contest to that of mental com- 
petition ; from pride in the possession of material objects (personal beauty, 
&c.) to pride in the possession of intellectual qualities, and so forth. 

Again, the educator is concerned in a special way with fostering the 
social feelings of the child. He aims, or should aim, at developing a child's 
sympathy not merely because of its moral value, but because of its im- 
mense aid in realizing all the ends of education. To attach one's pupil in 
affection and sympathy is to secure the most efficient of motive forces. 
The sympathetic learner works in order to give satisfaction to his teacher. 
He acquires a liking for study by sympathetically entering into the enthu- 
siasm of his instructor. Hence the educational value of a certain emo- 
tional ardour in the teacher which is fitted to call forth the reaction of 
sympathy in those about him. The force of sympathy in education is fur- 
ther secured by cultivating a feeling of oneness and of amity between 
pupil and pupil. 

Coming now to the abstract sentiments, we find new educational prob- 
lems presenting themselves which grow out of the peculiar nature and 
conditions of the feelings. Thus in the important work of cultivating the 
intellectual sentiment, the feeling of curiosity and the love of knowledge, 
the educator should aim at securing for the learner a due experience of 
the unpleasantness of ignorance and of the pleasures growing out of the 
pursuit of knowledge. The crude curiosity of children should be fostered 
and led into lines of fruitful inquiry, so that the delight of intellectual ac- 
tivity may be fully realised and a pleasurable consciousness of growth in 
knowledge developed. In thus working on the intellectual feelings the 
educator should ever remember that the genuine pleasures of intellect can 



COMPLEX FEELINGS : EMOTIONS. 



401 



only be enjoyed when the mind is fully active and finding the answers to 
its questions by a process of self-discovery. 

In dealing with the aesthetic faculty, the educator must bear in mind 
that, like the other faculties, it grows by exercise on suitable material, and 
that consequently it is important to surround the child from the first with 
what is pretty, attractive, and tasteful. First impressions produce the 
deepest effect in the education of taste as well as in that of the other facul- 
ties. The influence of a refined mother who studies grace in furniture, 
pictures, and in her own dress and manner, may be all-important in awak- 
ing the first feeling for what is giaceful and beautiful. Custom, as has 
often been remarked, plays a chief part in determining our standard of 
what is correct in matters of taste. It is all-important, therefore, to 
accustom the child at the outset to what, though simple and adapted to 
the child's sensibilities, is in good taste. As supplementary to this bringing 
of the child into daily association with what is beautiful, the educator may 
direct his attention to beautiful things, pointing out those aspects which 
are .fitted to please the eye and mind, and so calling the aesthetic faculty 
into exercise. 

A complete training of the faculty of ta te must include the develop- 
ment of it on its active side. A fine feeling for beauty of colour, line, or 
sound, is best secured by stimulating the child to reproduce what he sees 
or hears. The teaching of drawing, painting, singing, or other art is the 
surest means of developing a fine and discriminative appreciation of the 
corresponding impressions. 

Lastly, in seeking to develop the moral sentiment of the young the 
educator has, it is evident, to begin by seeing that the system of discipline 
under which the child lives is as effective and beneficial as possible. Rules 
must be laid down absolutely, and enforced consistently, yet with a careful 
consideration of circumstances and individual differences. Only in this 
way will the child come to apprehend and respect the moral law as a fixed 
and abiding system, perfectly impartial in its approvals and disapprovals. 

At the same time, the educator should not be a cold impersonal ab- 
straction. He must represent the moral law, but in representing it he 
must show himself a living personality capable of being deeply pained at 
the sight of wrongdoing. In this way the moral educator may appeal to 
the child's tender feelings of love and respect for himself. The child 
should be led up to feel how base it is to lie, how mean and cowardly to 
injure a weak and helpless creature, by witnessing the distress it causes 
his parent or teacher. 

The training of the moral faculty to an independent mode of feeling 
and judging includes the habitual exercise of the sympathetic feelings to- 
gether with the powers of judgment. And here much may be done by 
directing the child's attention to the effects of his conduct. The conse- 
quences of wrongdoing and the beneficent results of rightdoing ought to 
be made clear, and the feelings enlisted against the one and on the side of 
26 



402 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



the other. Not only so, the pupil's mind should be exercised in compar- 
ing actions, in detecting similar moral characteristics in a variety of actions, 
and in distinguishing between like actions under different circumstances, 
so that he may become ready and apt in pronouncing moral judgment. 

It follows from the above account or the way in which the moral 
faculty grows that in order to a complete development the influence of the 
parent and teacher must be aided by other influences. The companion- 
ship of other children is an important condition of a healthy growth of the 
moral feelings. The sense of justice grows up in connexion with the 
interplay of a number of individual interests and claims. A single child 
brought up alone is apt to be wanting in this feeling. The free region of 
activity, the nursery and playground, have a moralising effect by ac- 
customing each child to consider himself as one of a number, to see the 
reciprocity of good conduct (honesty, kindness, &c), and to limit his ex- 
pectations by a reference to others' claims. This daily contact with a 
number of children is, moreover, morally important as familiarising the 
child with the universal and impartial character of the moral law. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the nature and classification of the emotions the reader may con- 
sult Hoffding, Outlines of Psychology, vi. C. ; W. James, Psychology, ch. 
xxiv. A more detailed account will be found in Bain's treatises, The 
Emotions and the Will and Mental and Moral Science, bk. iii. ; and in my 
work, The Htwzan Mind, vol. ii. On the educational management of the 
feelings, see Bain's Education as a Science, chap. iii. ; Th. Waitz, Allge- 
meine Padagogik, 2er Abschnitt. The cultivation of sympathy is spe- 
cially dealt with by Miss Edgeworth, Essays on Practical Education, 
chap. x. ; and Madame Necker, U Education, livre v. chap. iv. On the 
question of exciting a pleasurable interest in knowledge, the reader may 
consult Bain, op. cit., chap. vi. The cultivation of taste is discussed by 
Miss Edgeworth, op. cit., chap. xxii. ; Madame Necker, op. cit., livre v. 
chap. iii. ; Bain, op. cit., chap. xiii. Lastly, on the cultivation of the moral 
feeling the reader may refer to Madame Necker, op. cit., livre iii. chap, 
vi. ; H. Spencer, Education, chap. iii. ; Bain, op. cit., chaps, iii. and xii. ; 
and Beneke, Erziehungs und Unterrichstlehre, i. 2er cap. §§ 2 and 4. 



PART V. 
CONATION OR VOLITION 



CHAPTER XIV. 

VOLUNTARY MOVEMENT. 

We have now surveyed the principal stages in two out 
of the three directions of psychical development. It re- 
mains to carry out a similar process in the case of the third 
direction, that of conation or volition. 

Definition of Conative Phenomena. The phenom- 
ena coming under the head of conation or volition have 
already been roughly marked off (cf. pp. $?>■, 34)- They in- 
clude what are specifically known as our active manifesta- 
tions. To begin with, they comprehend what we commonly 
mean by our actions, that is, the movements carried out by 
our ' voluntary ' muscles. The movements of the organism, 
so far as unconscious, are of course excluded from the class 
of psychical phenomena. Omitting these, we may say that 
in a broad sense the terms conation, volition, cover all 
actions which have a conscious accompaniment, and which 
may be marked off as psychical actions. Thus instinctive 
movements find their place under conation In a narrower 
sense the terms refer more particularly to that group of 
more complex psychical actions which involve an antecedent 
purpose. 

Besides the (psychical) movements of the bodily organs 
conation includes the processes which fall under the head 
of attention. Here, as pointed out above, we have, just as 



404 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



in the case of movement, a lower non-purposive and a 
higher or purposive form. 

The most obvious common characteristic in this variety 
of actions or conative processes is, as already suggested, 
that peculiar element which is best marked off as active con- 
sciousness. To move the limb consciously, to direct atten- 
tion on a difficult point, is to have a particular and 
unique sort of experience, the differentia of which we can 
only describe by help of the term active, or some equiva- 
lent expression, as sense of exertion, or of effort. As sug- 
gested above, the peculiar colouring of these active psy- 
choses is probably in all cases connected with the working 
of the motor side of the nervous system. This applies 
not only to voluntary movement, but to acts of attention, 
which, as we saw, include a motor concomitant (cf p. 86). 

Besides this factor of active consciousness all the more 
complex processes of volition to which we commonly ap- 
ply the term voluntary, as ' voluntary action,' ' voluntary 
attention,' connote other ingredients as well. These con- 
sist of psychical antecedents, that is, mental processes pre- 
ceding, as well as those accompanying the action. This an- 
tecedent factor may in general be described as a forecasting 
or prevision of the action itself \ and of some at least of its results 
under the form of an ' end. ' 

Conation in its Relation to Feeling- and Cogni- 
tion. The differcntioz of conative phenomena now reached, 
viz., active consciousness and psychical initiation through 
representation of an end, may enable us to mark off with 
greater distinctness the domain of volition from that of 
intellection and of feeling. A word or two may serve to 
make this plain. 

Taking feeling first of all, we see that conation contrasts 
with this by reason of its activity. Pleasure and pain are 
passive states. It is true, as has been shown above, that 
all feeling has motor concomitants which contribute psy- 
chical elements to the emotive state. Yet qua mere feelings 
they are wanting in the peculiar consciousness of exertion, 
as also the characteristic element of purpose. Feeling, 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 405 

though involved as an antecedent condition in conation, 
only leads on to this by assuming a new form, viz., desire, e.g., 
desire for the gratification of appetite, of literary taste. 

In like manner our differentice. serve, in general, to mark 
off conation from the region of intellection. Our mental 
processes are intellective in so far as they make the pre- 
sentative side of our experience prominent, and involve 
processes of discrimination, association, etc. They are 
conative in the measure in which active exertion preceded 
by desire or idea of end becomes dominant. 

A special difficulty in marking off conation from intellection arises 
from the circumstance that every psychical action has an intellective phase. 
Thus the active consciousness as muscular sensation can, in the way 
shown above, be discriminated as that answering to a particular kind of 
movement, and retained and reproduced for future use. Further, as we 
shall see by-and-by, just as what we call intellection is always accompanied 
by the conative phenomenon attention, so the processes of voluntary 
movement involve an intellective factor, viz., the representation of a move- 
ment, etc. 

As has been pointed out, the conative process follows 
one of two directions commonly distinguished as voluntary 
movement and attention, or, as they are sometimes loosely 
called, ' external and internal ' action. We have already 
found reason to see that these are not absolutely distinct 
processes, and this conclusion will become clearer as we 
advance. At the same time, the distinction offers a con- 
venient way of dealing with the subject. We will accord- 
ingly begin by studying volition in its connexion with 
movement, and take up the volitional control of attention 
at a later stage. 

Roots of Voluntary Action : Instinct and Experi- 
ence. A glance at what we mean by a voluntary action 
shows us that it presupposes two factors. The first of 
these may be marked off as the Original or Instinctive root 
of volition. Such is the impulse to seek that which is 
agreeable and beneficial, and to avoid what is painful and 
harmful. This impulse to action or active disposition is 
primordial, and has to be presupposed in any attempt to 
account for the growth of the volitional process. It shows 



406 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

itself, first of all, in a sub-conscious form, in what is some- 
times specially marked off as Impulse (German " Trieb "), 
that is, a rudimentary and essentially vague process of 
craving, or striving. In its later and clearly conscious 
form it becomes what we know as Desire. 

In the second place, a voluntary movement, e.g., of the 
arm for the purpose of plucking fruit, presupposes experi- 
ence. A child brings with it into the world no prophetic 
prevision of its doings and their results. Before he can con- 
sciously direct a movement to a particular result, there 
must have been some experience (or series of experiences) 
by which he has learnt first of all the particular result 
which he now aims at ; secondly, the particular conscious 
movement which he now wills to carry out ; and thirdly, 
the (causal) connexion between these two. It follows from 
this that a completely voluntary movement is preceded 
by earlier forms of movement. These earlier movements 
may be marked off as Primitive Movements. 

It was pointed out above that the development both of 
intelligence and of feeling proceeds from the outer life of 
sensation to the inner life of ideation. The course of vo- 
litional development is similar. In the earliest stages of 
this development we shall find movements called forth in 
immediate response to sensations, and involving as their 
psychical concomitants only sensational elements (muscular 
sensations, etc.). Little by little this crude form of move- 
ment will be seen to be complicated by ideational processes, 
representations of desirable object, and of appropriate 
action, till in the highest type of volition this internal idea- 
tional factor assumes the supreme rSle under the form of 
deliberation and rational choice. 

We may now procede to trace this movement of voli- 
tional development, beginning with an account of those 
primitive movements which precede the distinctly volitional 
type. 

Primitive Movements, (a) Movements not Psy- 
chically Initiated : Random, Automatic Movements. 
As we saw above, the general type of motor action is re- 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



407 



flex, /. <?., following on sensory stimulation {cf. p. 23 f.). At 
the same time there is some reason to suppose that in the 
case of the child, as well as of other young animals, a cer- 
tain number of movements arise independently of sensory 
stimulation, and through what has been called the " auto- 
matic " excitation of the central substance.* They have 
been variously called Spontaneous, Automatic, and Random 
movements. Illustrations of this class appear to offer 
themselves in the movements of the chick in the egg, and 
in some of the earliest movements of the infant, as stretch- 
ing out the arms, the legs, rolling the eyes on waking while 
the lids are still closed, and so forth. 

Assuming the existence of such movements, we see 
that their most striking psychical characteristic is the ab- 
sence of all psychical initiation. They are preceded by no 
anticipatory consciousness, either of the movement itself, 
or of anything resulting therefrom. Accordingly they only 
claim a place in a psychological account of movement by 
reason of the active consciousness or motor experience 
which they yield. 

(b) Sensori-Motor Movements : Conscious Re- 
flexes. The common form of the lower class of move- 
ments is, as we have seen, the reflex or "sensori-motor." 
Many of these, e. g., the spinal reflexes (see p. 24), are sup- 
posed to be purely physical, that is, unaccompanied by any 
form of consciousness. Others involving the psychical 
centres in the cortex are attended with consciousness, both 
the sensory and the motor stage of the process giving rise 
to sensation more or less distinct. Such are the movement 
of closing the eyelid when an object is brought near the 
eye, and of starting at a sound. These may be called 
conscious reflexes.\ These conscious reflexes differ, as al- 

* The nature of this automatic stimulation is wholly unknown. The 
common hypothesis is that it is due to certain changes in the composition 
of the blood in the capillaries permeating the brain-substance. 

•f- Some writers distinguish the unconscious from the conscious or psy- 
chical reflexes by calling the former ' excito-motor,' the latter ' sensori- 
motor. I use the term sensori-motor so as to include all reflex actions. 



4o8 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ready implied, from automatic movements in the important 
circumstance that they have at least a rudiment of con- 
sciousness as their antecedent, and so are psychically in- 
itiated. In this respect they bear a certain resemblance to 
voluntary movements, for, as we shall see, these last com- 
monly have a sensation or its ideational representative as 
an initiative factor. At the same time, these conscious re- 
flexes are distinctly marked off from true volitional actions, 
first of all, by the absence of all idea of purpose or end, as 
well as of movement ; and, secondly (what is closely con- 
nected with this), by their unvarying mechanical character 
— the same motor response always occurring when the particular 
sensory stimulus recurs. 

Some reflex movements are perfect, or approximately 
so, at birth. This applies to the necessary actions of inspi- 
ration and expiration, swallowing, and the like, which, as 
we have seen, are commonly carried on by means of sub- 
cortical centres, and do not involve distinct consciousness 
at all. It applies also to more distinctly conscious reflexes, 
as, for example, closing the fingers over a small object, as 
a pencil, brought in contact with their anterior surface. 
Others require a certain amount of experience and so first 
occur later. This applies to many movements of the eyes, 
e. g., turning them towards a light. 

It is to be added that, in addition to such original re- 
flexes, acquired voluntary movements themselves tend by 
repetition and the lapsing of the element of conscious pur- 
pose to take on a reflex character Many of our demon- 
strably acquired movements, e. g., brushing away a fly from 
the face, putting out a hand to stop an object approaching 
us, offering our hand in response to the invitation of 
another's outstretched hand, have this reflex or sensori- 
motor character. 

In addition to these restricted and specialised reflex re- 
actions there is a more diffused form of motor reaction of 
the same reflex type. Thus it has been proved by recent 
experiments that every sensorial stimulus tends, according 
to the degree of its strength, to innervate the muscles gen- 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



409 



erally. This diffused form of reflex motor reaction is, as 
we shall presently see, important as supplying unformed 
material for volitional selection. 

(V) Instinctive Movements. Closely allied to con- 
scious reflex movements, and not easily distinguished from 
these, are a third group of primitive reactions, viz., instinct- 
ive movements. In a sense, all original unacquired move- 
ments determined by congenital organic arrangements are 
instinctive, and the word instinct is often used in psychology 
with this wide reference. In the narrow and stricter sense, 
however, " instinctive movement " stands for one particular 
variety of the sensori-motor type of reaction. These in- 
stinctive movements are, physiologically considered, dis- 
tinguished from what are known as " reflexes " by their 
complexity. Many of the instinctive actions of the lower 
animals, e.g., the building instinct of the beaver, are com- 
plicated series of movements. This applies even to such 
an apparently simple instinct as sucking. 

Psychologically considered, instinctive actions are char- 
acterised not merely by the richer active consciousness 
which this motor complication implies, but also by a fuller 
and more important psychical initiative. In the case of many 
conscious reflexes the psychical concomitant is, as was re- 
marked, indistinct and fugitive. It is otherwise with in- 
stinctive movements. Many of these at least are preceded 
by sensations of considerable intensity. Moreover, and 
this is a capital distinction, the sensational element in the 
initiation of instinctive movements has a marked affective 
concomitant. Thus the instincts of birds, e.g., incubation, 
migration, appear to be determined by sensations having a 
strong accompaniment of painful feeling, viz., one of dis- 
comfort or distress, which element comes distinctly into 
view whenever the appropriate movements are not at once 
forthcoming. A striking illustration of this is seen in the 
instinctive appetites, as hunger, thirst, and probably also 
the craving for sleep. 

Instinct is marked off from a mere state of feeling by 
its active element. By this is meant that peculiar and en- 



4io 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ergetic stir of muscular activity which arises during the 
state of hunger or other discomfort, and which appears to 
indicate a vague craving or striving after something not 
realised at the moment. 

Instinctive movements are further characterised by the 
aspect of purposiveness. They show much more distinctly 
than reflex movements a biological utility or adaptation to 
life-ends. How far in addition to this biological purposive- 
ness there is a psychological purposiveness, i. <?., consciousness 
of end, is a matter of great uncertainty. It is possible that 
they have a rudimentary analogue of this in the form of 
blind impulse, i. e., a vague sense of something wanting, 
and of a striving to satisfy the craving ; yet the nature of 
the purposes served by many of the instinctive actions of 
the lower animals, e.g., provision beforehand for the needs 
of offspring, forbids our supposing that there can be any 
idea of the particular end present. 

It has been customary to assign instinct to the lower 
animals, and to attribute the actions of man to intelligence. 
Yet, though the part played by instinct in the life of the 
child is smaller than it is in the life of the young animal, it 
is larger than has been generally supposed. The instinct- 
ive factor in human action includes a few specialised and 
perfected instincts, such as sucking. For the most part, how- 
ever, it appears under the form of an original organically con- 
ditioned impulse or tendency of a more or less vague char- 
acter, requiring the specialising influence of experience and 
education. Such are the instinctive promptings to move- 
ments of the arm and hand in grasping, of the legs in walk- 
ing, of the vocal organ in the first infantile " la-la-ing," and 
so forth. 

In dealing with emotive reactions under the form of 
expressive movements we saw that they involve move- 
ments carried out by the so-called 'voluntary' muscles, 
and further, that they are conditioned by congenital nerv- 
ous arrangements. In these respects, as also in the obvious 
circumstance that they are preceded by feeling, we can see 
that they have a close affinity to the group of instinctive 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 411 

movements. At the beginning of life, more particularly, 
before the conative and affective manifestations have be- 
come clearly differentiated, the regions of instinctive and 
expressive movement are not easily marked off one from 
another. Thus the crying of the hungry infant seems at 
once the expression of distress, and the effect of a quasi- 
conative impulse, the craving begotten of appetite. 

Genesis of Voluntary Movement. The various 
groups of primitive or unacquired movement just described 
would suffice to bring into play the "voluntary " motor 
mechanism, and so supply the active consciousness or ex- 
perience of active movement. And this, aided by the rep- 
resentative or reproductive power, would, it is evident, 
contribute important factors to the production of voluntary 
movement, more particularly the motor idea or representa- 
tion, which, as we saw, is one ingredient in its psychical 
initiation. To this must be added the experience of certain 
interesting results of movement, viz., benefits in the shape of 
removal or lessening of discomfort, or production or in- 
crease of pleasurable feeling : and the association of these 
benefits with particular varieties of movement. We have now 
to inquire how this more complicated experience, viz., that 
of pleasure-producing movement, may arise. 

It is evident that this experience will be forthcoming when 
by an accidental coincidence a movement involuntarily car- 
ried out in one of the ways described above brings about a 
favorable change in the child's condition, whether this be 
to remove or lessen discomfort, or to introduce a positive 
element of pleasure of a sufficient amount to excite the 
child's attention to the sequence. 

Such coincidences would be secured to some extent by 
the agency of Random Movement, as when a child spon- 
taneously strikes an object and produces the agreeable 
effect of a noise. It is to be remarked, however, that ran- 
dom movement, since it does not presuppose an antecedent 
state of discomfort, would have to depend altogether upon 
the production of positive pleasure. Since, moreover, the 
movements in this group appear to be few in number and 



412 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



restricted in their character, they cannot constitute a con- 
siderable factor in the development of voluntary move- 
ment. 

Let us now turn to the reflex or sensori-motor variety 
of primitive movement. So far as this is from the first a 
specialised motor reaction organically connected with a 
particular sensory process, it remains what it was originally, 
at best but a sub-conscious psychical phenomenon. These 
movements may indeed be taken up into voluntary ones by 
a purposive on-bringing of the sensational stimulus, as in 
the complex movements of grasping, in which the closing of 
the fingers upon contact is reflex : yet they do not rise to the 
level of distinctly conscious phenomena. 

It might be supposed that the more diffused or scattered 
type of reflex movement offers a better starting-point for 
the development of voluntary movement. Thus out of the 
variety of the movements caused by a sudden sound there 
may arise a turning of the head in the direction of the sound, 
which would bring about a new pleasure. At the same 
time, the very fugitivenessof these reflex movements would 
prevent their being of much use in this way. 

It is to the group of instinctive movements, with which 
we may take the early undifferentiated expressive move- 
ments, that we must look for a true starting-point in the 
development of voluntary action in the human individual. 
Here we have among the psychical antecedents of the 
movement a feeling of pleasure or of pain, and an active 
element, viz., craving or impulse. 

It has been pointed out above, in connexion alike with 
expressive and with instinctive movement, that all feeling 
originally tends to excite the " voluntary " muscles to action, 
the range of this effect varying with the intensity of the 
feeling. We can easily observe that during a state of 
pleasurable or of painful feeling the infant carries out a 
number of movements of the limbs, the vocal apparatus, 
etc. A word or two will make it clear that it is this type of 
wide-ranging, unspecialised, feeling-prompted movement 
which supplies the nucleus of a truly volitional action. 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



413 



Out of the variety of movement thus arising certain 
elements will modify the pre-existing feeling. Thus, if the 
child is expressing a feeling of pleasure, the movement may 
react by prolonging and intensifying the pleasure, as in 
producing agreeable sound from a toy. If, on the other 
hand, it is giving vent to a feeling of discomfort or distress, 
some of the movements called forth may tend to relieve 
the pain. In this way, for example, it might hit on the 
movements which relieve cramp in the limb, which banish 
the feeling of cold by bringing it nearer the mother's body, 
and so forth. Attention to these changes in their connexion 
with the particular movements bringing them about — which 
is secured by the deeply interesting nature of the changes — 
will serve to fix them in the memory. And thus an opening 
will be supplied for the instinctive prompting referred to 
above, viz., the seeking of the beneficial or pleasurable 
and the avoidance of the hurtful or painful. Hereafter, 
through the recalling of the sequence, the child is able to 
represent beforehand the relief or on-coming of pleasure, 
and also to consciously initiate the appropriate movement 
by an idea of the same. 

From this brief sketch we can see that, given the in- 
stinctive impulse to seek pleasure and avoid pain, and a 
sufficient amount and variety of feeling-prompted move- 
ment with its reflex effects on the prompting feeling, volun- 
tary movements might arise by a process closely analogous 
to that of natural selection. That is to say, particular 
movements among a miscellaneous group would be consciously se- 
lected and preserved because they were found to be beneficial or 
useful to the agent. 

We have here assumed that the field of selection is 
as wide as the " voluntary " muscular system, that what- 
ever the nature of the original feeling, it is just as likely 
to prompt to one kind of movement as another. But, as 
we have seen, this is not the case. The child is endowed 
at the first with more or less specialised impulses or instinct- 
ive promptings which appear to stand in an organic relation 
to particular groups of movements. Thus hunger, which 



414 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



in its active form is known as the nutritive impulse, begets 
along with a weaker and more diffused excitation of move- 
ment a specially energetic excitation of movements of par- 
ticular organs, viz., those fitted to bring about the satisfaction 
of the impulse. Still more clearly is this original restric- 
tion and specialisation of the motor excitation seen in the 
case of those instinctive locomotor movements (alternative 
movements of the legs) which are produced by bringing the 
soles of a baby's feet in contact with one's lap. 

Such special impulses or instincts would serve greatly to 
expedite the process of selective adjustment ; not only so, 
the instinctive prompting has in it, as we have seen, an ele- 
ment of vague craving, which shows itself when not imme- 
diately satisfied in characteristic and energetic muscular 
effects. Thus the child when hungry is specially predis- 
posed to carry out the movements appropriate to this crav- 
ing, and tc find a peculiarly intense gratification in satisfying 
its active impulse. Hence the eagerness with which the 
movements are carried out, and the energy with which they 
are maintained during the prompting of the appetite. All 
this would, it is evident, greatly favour the selection and 
retention of the appropriate movements. In other words, 
in proportion as the element of instinctive prompting is 
powerful, and its direction specialised, the process of voli- 
tional acquisition is shortened. 

We may now pass from the sub-volitional domain and 
confine our attention to the process of voluntary action it- 
self. We have to inquire a little more closely into the 
volitional process, and to explain the nature and develop- 
ment of each of its constituent factors. 

The Factors of Voluntary Action. The process in- 
volved in a voluntary action may be best seen by means of 
a simple example. The child has tasted an orange. You 
offer him another, and he puts out his hand and takes it. 
The psychical event in this case seems to consist of the 
following stages. The complex of visual sensations sup- 
plied by the orange suggests, according to the law of con- 
tiguous association, the representation of the taste and the 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 415 

pleasure accompanying this. This representation of a pleas- 
urable experience closely connected in time with an actual 
presentation excites the state of desire. That is, the child 
craves a renewed enjoyment of the orange-sucking. The 
idea of the succulent pleasure-giving orange, fixed and sus- 
tained in the state of desire, suggests in its turn (also by 
associative reproduction) a particular action or series of 
movements by means of which the pleasure may be realised. 
Here we have the representation of certain movements, the 
last psychical antecedent of the actual execution of the 
movement. The ensuing physiological process, the inner- 
vation of the muscles, lies outside the psychical domain 
Lastly, there is the stage of realisation of end or accom- 
plishment, viz., the active consciousness which accompanies 
the motor or muscular process, and the substitution of the 
real experience of sucking for the representation of the 
same. This, however, is not so much a phase of the voli- 
tional process itself as its psychical consequence under nor- 
mal and favorable conditions. 

We may now consider more fully each of the main fac- 
tors in the volitional process, viz., the highly complex state 
of desire and anticipation of end; and, secondly, the fac- 
tor of motor representation regarded as a conative phe- 
nomenon. 

Desire. 

The state of desire, though it has its crude prototype 
in instinctive impulse, only becomes distinct as experience 
advances, and action takes on a definitely voluntary char- 
acter. 

The Analysis of Desire, (i) Since all definite desire 
is of some object or perceptible result, one obvious element 
in the psychical state is an idea or representation. When a 
child desires an object, say an orange, or a playmate's so- 
ciety, he is imagining this object as actually present or 
realised. In this way all desire is related to the intellectual 
side of mind. Where there is no knowledge there can be 
no desire. We must have had experiences and be able to 
recall these with some degree of clearness before we can 



4 i6 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

have a desire for new and similar ones. Our desires mul- 
tiply as our experience widens and grows more varied. 

The representation involved in desire may be either a 
mere reproduction of a past experience, as when one desires 
an orange, or may involve in addition a constructive pro- 
cess. We are able to desire things of which as yet we 
have had no fruition, provided that they resemble actual 
gratifications closely enough to allow of our forming the 
necessary images. 

The representative element in desire differs from that 
in intellectual imagination. In desiring a thing, say a fruit 
which I see, that which is desired is not the thing now ex- 
istent as I perceive it, but this object brought into a certain 
relation to myself. In other words, the object of desire is 
always an unrealised condition of the self — here the pleasur- 
able experience of eating the fruit. 

(2) It follows that all representations do not excite de- 
sire. This is only aroused by such representations as have 
a concomitant of feeling, and more particularly of things 
which appear fitted to benefit us or to bring us pleasure. 
In desiring a succulent fruit, a child represents the delight 
of eating it : in desiring a good social position or a high 
reputation, a man represents the coveted situation on its 
pleasurable side. 

Now we have seen that the representation of something 
pleasurable has itself a pleasurable tone. In mentally fore- 
casting the incidents of a coming tour abroad we have an 
ideal ' sip ' of the actual pleasure. But in ordinary cases 
this ideal element is greatly inferior to the reality, and is 
recognised as such. And this consciousness of inferiority 
lies at the very root of the state of desire or craving; for 
to desire a thing is to experience or feel the absence or 
want of this thing. This is shown by the fact that as soon 
as this sense of discrepancy between the actual and the 
imagined state of thing disappears, as in the intenser im- 
aginative realisation of an enjoyment, desire expires. 

The relation between feeling and desire here brought 
out is a particularly close one. Not only does the repre- 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



417 



sentation of a pleasure wholly unrealised at the moment 
arouse this craving, the actual experience of pleasure ap- 
pears in most cases to beget something like a desire for its 
prolongation, if not also for its intensification. Since, 
however, pleasure as such satisfies, whde pain as such dis- 
contents us, the excitation of desire by feeling is much 
more apparent in the case of painful experiences. Actual 
suffering produces a restlessness, an appearance of a crav- 
ing for, and a striving after, escape or relief from the 
misery. 

While feeling is thus an antecedent and main condition 
of desire, the latter state contributes in its turn new ele- 
ments of feeling. As pointed out above, wants or cravings 
form one great class of our pains. A common if not a con- 
stant element in desire is the sense of the inferiority of the 
ideal to the actual. This is distinctly painful, and when 
desire is fully developed, that is to say, is not immediately 
replaced by its satisfaction, the painful ingredient grows 
more distinct and may become intense. We thus see that 
desire, viewed as an affective state, is a complex phenome- 
non, in which a pleasurable element, the accompaniment of 
the representation, is opposed to, and in conflict with, a 
painful element, the sense of deficiency or shortcoming, 
which last grows more intense, and may ' quench ' the pleas- 
urable element if the state of non-realisation is unduly 
prolonged. 

(3) While desire thus stands in relation to each of the 
two other phases of mind, it is sufficiently marked off as 
an active phenomenon. It is in virtue of this characteristic 
that it constitutes the connecting link between knowing 
and feeling on the one side, and willing on the other. In 
desiring a thing, say an approaching holiday, we are in a 
state of active tension, as if striving to aid the realisation 
of that which is only represented at the moment, and rec- 
ognised as such. This innermost core of desire has been 
variously described as a movement of the mind {e. g., by 
Aristotle), and more commonly as a striving towards the 
fruition or realisation of the object. 
27 



4i8 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



This element of active prompting in desire appears 
under each of the two phases which, as we have seen, are 
always present in our active states, viz., attention and mus- 
cular consciousness. 

It is evident, in the first place, that in desiring a thing, 
as a position, a prize, our attention is closely fixed and 
concentrated on the idea. In the degree in which the idea 
is interesting and exciting, so will it tend to persist and 
monopolise consciousness. 

This calling forth of a strong reaction will in itself, con- 
formably to what has been said above, give the colouring 
of active consciousness to the state of intense desire. But 
there is more than this. The direction of the attention to 
an idea tends, as we have seen, to develop and intensify 
this idea. Now, as far as this becomes a conscious process 
we have, it is obvious, a new and very important conative 
ingredient. In fixating the agreeable idea we tend to pass 
insensibly into a state of striving towards an end, viz., an in- 
tensification, or fuller degree of realisation of that which 
is desired, and so recognised as not yet fully realised. 

In the second place, as we have already seen in con- 
nexion with the phenomena of sub-conscious desire (im- 
pulse or organic appetite), desire involves an accompani- 
ment of muscular activity and the correlated " active con- 
sciousness." To desire is to be incipiently active, to be 
stirred to muscular exertion. Desire and complete mus- 
cular inaction are incompatible, and the motor agitation in 
this case has the look, at least, of incipient, tentative reach- 
ing out towards attainment. 

Desire and Aversion. The great contrast in the 
region of feeling between pleasure and pain has its coun- 
terpart in the domain of. activity. While the representa- 
tion of what is pleasurable excites the positive form of de- 
sire, that is, longing to realise, the representation of what 
is painful awakens the negative form of aversion, or the 
longing to be rid of. We strive towards what gives us 
pleasure, and away from what gives us pain. If the pain 
be an actual experience of the moment, aversion takes the 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 419 

form of craving for relief, a form of desire which, as has 
been hinted above, seems to be the most primitive. If, on 
the other hand, a pain be merely imagined, the aversion 
assumes the aspect of a mental recoil or shrinking back. 

Here, again, we may connect the active phase of desire 
with the process of attention. Just as positive desire for 
what is grateful involves an exertion of the attention, with 
a more or less distinct purpose to fix, intensify and fully 
realise the agreeable presentation, so the recoil of aversion 
appears to involve a withdrawal of attention from the un- 
grateful presentation with a view to displace or expel it. 
And this rejection of what is painful is seen still more 
plainly in the shrinking back from an anticipated pain. 

Conditions of the Strength of Desire. The state 
of craving admits of different degrees of strength or en- 
ergy. Our desires range through all gradations of inten- 
sity and persistence, from vague, fugitive wishes, up to 
intense and absorbing longings. These differences show 
themselves in various ways. Thus, a strong desire prompts 
to great and prolonged activity or exertion, whereas a weak 
one fails to do so. Again, strength of desire may be meas- 
ured by the amount of pain incurred if the craving remains 
unsatisfied. 

The most important circumstance determining the 
strength of desire or active prompting is the magnitude 
of the pleasure represented. In general it may be said 
that the greater the pleasure represented the stronger will 
be the desire, and the more energetic the current of active 
impulse. Thus a school-boy's activity (mental and bodily) 
is roused to a much greater extent by the prospect of a 
whole holiday than by that of going home half-an-hour 
earlier than usual. 

At the same time, it is to be borne in mincl that the 
representation of the desired object may not accurately 
correspond with the degree of the actual enjoyment. As 
philosophers, ancient and modern, have been wont to re- 
mind us, that which is near influences us, by way both of 
attraction and repulsion, more powerfully than that which 



420 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



is remote. The strength of a desire is thus proportionate 
not to the intensity of the actual experience of pleasure 
but to its intensity as represented and estimated at the moment 
of desire. 

This general principle that we desire things in the ratio 
of their imagined pleasurableness must be qualified by one 
or two considerations. In the first place, it is to be re- 
membered that a person is not at all times equally disposed 
to activity. A more powerful inducement is needed to stir 
active impulse when we are inactive and indolent than when 
we are strongly inclined to activity. Such differences in 
the excitability of desire are probably connected with dif- 
ferences in the degree of vigour, and the consequent in- 
stability or readiness to discharge, of the motor centres. 

One other modifying circumstance may be touched on, 
viz., that of volitional inertia or habit. The very fact of 
having erected an idea into an object of desire, and striven 
towards its realisation, generates, as we shall see more 
fully by-and-by, a tendency to go on desiring and striving 
in this direction. 

Desire and Motive. Hitherto we have dealt with de- 
sire merely as a state of craving without any reference to 
the nature of the desire as realisable or non-realisable. 
There are many desires which do not go beyond this stage. 
Thus we may have a passing wish for this, that, and the 
other impossible thing, including even nascent longings for 
past enjoyments. Since unsatisfied desire is painful, an 
educated will seeks, among other things, to check all futile 
and unreasonable desires by reflexion on their unattainability . 
In this way there arises a tendency, never perfectly realised, 
but realised more and more as volitional development pro- 
ceeds, to shut out all cravings that remain mere cravings. 

Where, however, circumstances allow of a gratification 
of the desire this passes into a new form, viz., an impulse to 
carry out a particular line of action. A desire when thus 
transformed into an incentive or excitant to action is what 
we call a motive. 

A motive is thus a desire viewed in its relation to a 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



421 



particular represented action, to the carrying out of which 
it urges or prompts. The desire in this case ceases to be 
a vague, fluctuating state of longing, and becomes fixed 
and defined as an impulse to realise a definite concrete ex- 
perience, viz., the known and anticipated result of a particular 
action; or, since the object of desire is now foregrasped as 
the certain result of a particular active exertion, it assumes 
the form of the end of this action. 

Motor Ideas as Constituents in Volition. We may 
now pass to the other factor in conation, viz., Motor Repre- 
sentation. We have already, to some extent, examined 
into the nature of motor ideas. We have now to view them 
under a new aspect as a factor in the volitional process. 

In representing a movement, say that of throwing in a 
cricket-ball to the wicket, we have, as we have seen, to do 
with a complex experience, and a complete idea of the 
movement would, of course, involve all these constituents. 
Again, the experience of movement includes, not only a 
sum of muscular and other sensations connected with the 
action of the moving organ, but also a visual percept. 
When we move our arm we see the movement and its im- 
mediate result as a change in our visual field. In fully 
representing the act of throwing in the cricket-ball we 
should include the visual image of the moving arm, and of 
the ball flying into space. 

A little reflexion shows, however, that though we can 
thus represent a movement in this complete way before 
initiating it, we rarely, if ever, do so. The forecasting 
which suffices to bring about our ordinary movements is too 
rapid and fugitive to allow all its aspects to be realised 
imaginatively. Moreover, even when the idea of move- 
ment becomes more fixed and is definitely attended to, the 
restrictive and selective action of attention tends to bring 
about a special imaginative summoning of a particular 
phase. Thus a cricketer throwing in a ball from the field 
would attend specially to the amount of exertion (as also 
the direction of movement) necessitated by the particular 
position of the wicket, whereas a boy throwing a stone into 



422 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



a pond would have his attention mainly directed to the 
idea of the coming splash. The most constant factor in 
the motor representation is a more or less definite fore- 
grasping of the action as conscious exertion or active con- 
sciousness. To will to move the arm is thus to enter al- 
ready, in a measure, upon an active experience. 

It was pointed out just now that the state of desire be- 
comes modified by attachment to the idea of a definite 
movement. We have now to see how this attachment 
modifies the motor representation. 

As soon as experience and association suggest that a 
desire is realisable by a particular action, the idea of this 
action becomes itself a matter of interest, and so is fixed 
by the attention. Not only so, as soon as an action is 
thought of as a means to a desired object, the action is itself 
desired. That is to say, the object of desire is now en- 
visaged as the final stage of a larger experience in which 
the action itself occupies a place. Thus when a boy, feel- 
ing uncomfortably hot and desiring a bath, thinks of the 
river hard by, he foreacts more or less distinctly, and de- 
sires, the whole experience of going to the bank, undress- 
ing, and plunging in. This is a peculiar case of the effect 
of transference of feeling. 

Initiation and Actual Performance. When the force 
of a desire is thus concentrated upon, and made the psychic- 
al support of, a particular motor idea, the initiative stage 
of action is completed. As soon as a desire prompts us with 
sufficient intensity or strength and a suitable action is sug- 
gested with the requisite distinctness and stability, the 
actual performance follows, provided that there is nothing 
to counteract this prompting. No additional psychical 
initiative in the shape of a fiat, or a conscious process of 
resolve " I will to move," is required in this case. 

We may thus say that the conative process which in- 
itiates a voluntary movement is resolvable into the idea of a 
definite movement backed and sustained by the force of desire. 

The actual movement itself is only of psychological ac- 
count so far as it is a conscious process, that is, an active 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 423 

experience. We know, however, that the processes in- 
volved in the execution of a movement are in part purely 
physiological. Thus the efferent transmission of the cor- 
tical excitation to the muscles lies altogether outside the 
boundaries of psychical phenomena. Yet, owing to its 
bearing on the interesting metaphyiscal question, the action 
of mind on matter, psychologists customarily touch on the 
relation of the conative process ("willing") to the actual 
performance ; and we may be permitted to follow their ex- 
ample. 

From a scientific point of view, the process here re- 
ferred to must be regarded as a succession of a purely 
physical upon a psycho-physical process. The action of 
certain regions of the nerve-centres, correlated with the 
state of desire and motor representation, is followed by the 
out-going current of motor innervation. How, it may be 
asked, is this effected ? Here two views offer themselves : 
(a) The theory which connects active consciousness with 
the efferent nervous current theory asserts that the repre- 
sentation of a movement already engages those motor 
centres of the cortex from which the process of innervation 
issues, so that we have merely to suppose a stage of sub- 
excitation of central motor elements passing into a full ex- 
citation which leads to an out-going discharge, (b) The 
hypothesis that the whole conscious experience in muscular 
action is a product of peripherally induced sensations main- 
tains that all ideas of movement engage sensory nerve-cen- 
tres ; and in this case the motor discharge in voluntary 
movement will have to be thought of as brought about by 
special nervous paths connecting these sensory with the 
required motor centres. 

Variations in Type of Voluntary Movement. The 
general form of the volitional process just described ad- 
mits of certain variations. Thus, as pointed out, the cona- 
tive process is in many cases set going by a sensation, so 
that the whole action takes on the appearance of a com- 
plicated reflex movement. This applies to the numerous 
actions of early life which are responsive to sense-percep- 



424 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tions, and may be brought under the two heads of approach- 
ing or getting possession of agreeable objects, and receding 
from or getting rid of disagreeable ones. Later on, the 
growth of experience leading to more complicated idea- 
tional processes brings about what is, in appearance at 
least, a new form of voluntary movement, viz., an internally 
or ideationally initiated form. Thus we think of a needed 
book in another room or in a friend's house, and go in 
quest of it. Here the process of desiring and acting is not 
started immediately by any sense-stimulus of the moment. 
Even in such cases, however, the form of reflex movement 
is not wholly lost. For the processes of ideational sugges- 
tion, even when prolonged, depend, as we have seen, on 
sense-presentations as their starting-point. Thus the idea 
of the needed book will have been called up directly or in- 
directly by the perception of something in our present sur- 
roundings, e.g., a reference in another book. 

One other variety of voluntary movement demands a 
moment's attention. Certain actions appear to be brought 
about by vivid and persistent ideas of movement apart 
from desire. These ideo-motor actions, as they have been 
called, are illustrated in imitative movements, as when a 
spectator reproduces some of the balancing movements of 
a rope-walker. We shall have occasion to refer to these 
later on. Here it is enough to point out that, properly 
speaking, these only come into the category of volitional 
phenomena so far as they are initiated by some analogue 
of desire. 

That there is a rudimentary desire in many so-called 
ideo-motor movements is certain. Thus the carrying out 
of a movement vividly suggested by a present situation, as 
i boy's leap at the mere sight of a gate, a brook, and so 
forth, is always (in a perfectly normal condition of mind) 
due to a special pleasurable interest in the motor idea, e.g., 
as new and untried, as difficult and so promising kCSos, and 
so forth. Similarly, as will be seen, in the case of imitative 
movements. Where, on the other hand, a movement fol- 
lows quite independently of desire, it must of course be 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 425 

regarded as non-voluntary. This applies, for example, to 
those slight unintentional movements towards the object 
intently fixated in thought by help of which what is some- 
times erroneously called thought-reading, but is more cor- 
rectly styled muscle-reading, is carried out. Here the in- 
voluntary character of the movements is clearly shown in 
the fact that the person who thus gives the clue is, as he 
thinks, trying to inhibit all such indications. A like exe- 
cution of motor impulse in opposition to a true conative or 
desiderative process is observable in the working out of an 
idee fixe, as when a man leaps from a precipice; for in this 
case we have, it is evident, to do with the effect of morbid 
fascination, in which a painful idea of what is harmful, in- 
stead of being shrunk from, persists, and masters the atten- 
tion. 

Development of Voluntary Movement : Growth in 
Precision. The progress of voluntary action will, it is 
evident, depend partly on the growth of the feelings and 
desires, partly on the extension of that experience of move- 
ment and its results which subserves the acquisition of a 
stock of motor ideas. The first factor will be best con- 
sidered in the following chapter in connexion with a full 
account of motives. In the present chapter we shall trace 
the progress of voluntary action as determined by the 
second factor, the extension of motor experience. 

The mastery of a particular movement for volitional 
purposes is a gradual process. A succession of tentatives 
is necessary before the precise form of movement is con- 
sciously differentiated or solated, and retained in the form 
of an idea. As we saw above, the volitional adoption of 
movement is a process of selection. The primordial tend- 
ency to general diffused movement with any on-coming 
of feeling has to be restricted or inhibited. A child, when 
learning to write, to play the piano, and so forth, has to 
separate out a particular group of manual movements from 
among a miscellaneous throng of useless ones. Also the 
particular connexions of movement which are primordial 
and organically determined and known as "concomitant 



426 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

movements " {Mitbewegungeii) must be broken through, as 
when in learning to play the piano a child has to move the 
fingers separately, repressing the organically associated 
movements of the other fingers. 

By such repeated performances, aided by the laws of 
retention and reproduction, the learner acquires definite 
motor ideas, and attaches these to ideas of their results, 
both those which are constant, depending on organic con- 
nexions, e.g., the visual (or auditory) results of movement, 
and those which are variable, depending on special circum- 
stances, organic or environmental, as the state of hunger, 
and the proximity of food. 

As already implied, the repetition of movement, or what 
we call practice, tends to facilitate the process of initiation. 
The psycho-physical association of a particular movement 
with a particular result becomes fixed, so that less prelimi- 
nary attention to the idea of movement is required. More 
particularly such recurring performance serves to repress 
as no longer needed the distinct idea of the motor experi- 
ence itself. The bare idea of the wished-for result, e.g., the 
look of the door opened by one's arm, the sound produced 
by an act of articulation, suffices now to reinstate the ap- 
propriate action. 

Complication of Movement : Construction. The 
acquisition or mastery of particular movements leads on to 
the attainment of new and more complex forms by the help 
of these as elements. The process here has already been 
indicated in the general account of construction. There 
presents itself a set of circumstances, with a correlative 
need, similar to previous ones, the motor actions appro- 
priate to which have already been learned. This leads by 
an assimilative process to tentative movements of a like 
character. Little by little the old type of action is modi- 
fied in the required direction. 

This acquisition of new movement, by help of previ- 
ously acquired material, illustrates most obviously the pro- 
cess of combining elements. Such combination may be 
simultaneous, as in joining movements of the arms and 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



427 



speech-organ in reciting; or successive, as in the actions of 
feeding, dressing oneself, and so forth. The vast majority 
of useful actions are made up of successive movements 
with more or less of simultaneous combination also. As 
shown above, these successions are held together in con- 
sciousness by the force of contiguous association. At the 
same time the process of modifying old motor acquisitions 
includes along with combination a certain amount of sepa- 
ration. It is obvious that each integration of movements 
into an organic whole, e.g., of the fingers of the two hands 
in parallel scale exercises, tends to keep these combined in 
this particular way ; so that when we require to recombine 
the movements in new arrangements, as in playing a scale 
in what is known as contrary motion {e.g., upward with the 
left hand and downward with the right), there is the force 
of the old associations to work against. A striking exam- 
ple of this is the boy's tendency to move his tongue when 
he learns to write, a practice probably due to the fact that 
when beginning to write a word the learner must distinctly 
represent the associated sound and along with this the cor- 
responding articulate movement (cf. above, p. 202). 

Imitative Movement. A considerable factor in the 
early development of voluntary movement is what is known 
as imitation. By an imitative movement is commonly 
meant one which is called forth directly by the sight of 
that movement as performed by another. Thus it is an 
imitative action when the child pouts, shakes his head, and 
so on, merely in response to another's like movement.* 

Imitation implies a connection between the visual per- 
cept of a movement and the idea of the movement itself as 
a complex of active and passive sensations. Hence it only 
begins to appear when the correlated centres have attained 
a certain development. It is often said that imitation is 
instinctive, that is, unacquired. But since it only begins to 
appear about the fourth month, when simple voluntary ac- 

* When sight is not involved hearing takes its place, as in imitating 
the sound of an invisible insect or other object. 



428 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion directed towards an end is also first recognizable, it is 
probable that imitation is acquired. 

Imitation presupposes a certain experience of move- 
ment and a resulting stock of motor ideas. It presupposes, 
further, special attention to the movement in its connexion 
with the visual percept when the movement was carried 
out by the child itself. To wave the hand in response to 
another's action implies that the child recognises the simi- 
larity of the visual impression of this movement to that of 
previous hand-movements of its own. 

As already pointed out, imitative movement is of the 
ideo-motor type, viz., that in which movement follows upon 
an idea of the same. In many cases, as in the instance 
given by Lotze, moving the arm in sympathetic concomi- 
tance with the movements of a billiard player, there appears 
to be no conscious purpose. In some cases, indeed, the 
imitative movement seems specially useless, as an imitative 
coughing. Such movements touch if they do not go be- 
yond the boundary-line of voluntary movements. At the 
same time most imitative movements involve an element of 
pleasurable interest. The child does not by any means imi- 
tate all the actions it sees, but only certain ones which 
specially impress it. In some cases it recognises them as 
significant, and adopts them as expressive signs, or as use- 
ful, e. g., in imitating the actions of persons at table. Some- 
times, again, the movement is rendered aesthetically inter- 
esting, as in the case of odd or funny gestures, as also of 
new and fine-looking performances. Where these motives 
are lacking there is often an intellectual incentive at work, 
viz., the curiosity to see how a thing is done. Hence we have 
good reason to suppose that in most, at least, of a child's 
imitation there is a rudiment of desire. For the rest, the 
abundant imitative activity of early life illustrates the 
strength of the playful impulse, of the disposition to indulge 
in motor activity for the sake of its intrinsic pleasurable- 
ness. 

Imitative movement, while in certain cases it takes the 
form of repeating (in response to another's example) an 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



429 



action that has been previously acquired under the pressure 
of some special desire, may, further, assume the form of an 
acquisition of new combinations. A child learns to talk, for 
example, by striking out for the first time particular com- 
binations of articulate movement under the stimulus and 
guidance of others' speech. Here it is evident the process 
is more complex. The new imitated action must be recog- 
nised as partially similar to the child's own past movements, 
and so suggest these. The motor ideas thus revived will 
then be modifie dand combined very much as in the construct- 
ive process of independent acquisition. 

Imitation is a characteristic of early years and of crude 
stages of intelligence. The growth of the higher control- 
ling motives which have to be considered by-and-by serves 
to inhibit the naive primitive impulse to imitate what others 
do. At the same time the mimetic impulse is not rendered 
inoperative : it is only narrowed and specialised by an inten- 
sification of the element of conscious purpose. Thus the boy 
imitates what he thinks to be ' grand ' as a certain carriage 
or form of speech ; what he sees to be useful, e. g., manual 
dexterities ; what his moral and his aesthetic sense tell him 
to be worthy, as brave deeds, and so forth. The purposive 
character grows specially distinct in all comic imitation or 
mimicry, which aims at a $uasi-a.vtistic effect of ludicrous 
spectacle. 

Movement and Verbal Suggestion : the Word of 
Command. Very closely related to imitative movement is 
that form called forth by the presentation of some arbi- 
trarily attached sign of movement, such as the gesture signi- 
fying ' Come here ! ' or a verbal symbol. Here, too, there 
is an associative connexion between particular sense-presen- 
tations (sights or sounds) and corresponding motor ideas; 
only that in this case the connexion is not organically de- 
termined from the outset, but formed by the processes of 
education. In training a dog or a child to respond to 
signs, that is, to obey, the object is to induce such a close 
connexion between the rousing sign and the motor reaction 
as that the latter shall follow certainly and immediately. 



430 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

According to the common view, the responsive move- 
ments which we call obeying are acquired by a properly 
volitional process, viz., the desire to avoid punishment, to 
earn reward, or to please the commander. And there is no 
doubt that this properly describes what takes place in all 
drill-like discipline. At the same time it must be remem- 
bered that there is a wider influence co-operating at all 
stages. This influence is the tendency of all motor ideas, when 
sufficiently vivid and stable, to realise themselves in actual move- 
ment. Words are, as already pointed out, potent suggest- 
ors. To name a movement, as in the request ' Give me 
your hand,' is to call up a vivid representation of this 
movement. Hence the response is swift, easy, and but 
half-volitional, and in certain cases, as when a child's 
thoughts are pre-occupied, grows approximately involun- 
tary and automatic. This stage of automatic response is 
strikingly illustrated in the immediate obedience of the 
hypnotised subject to absurd and even hurtful commands 
on the part of the operator. 

This power of calling forth sign-provoked movements 
in others is a chief instrument in education. The dispo- 
sition in young creatures to move when movement is sug- 
gested, aided by the strength of those social feelings which 
lead to respectful attention to what older people say, serves 
to give the educator a large direction of early activity. 
By such educative direction movement is indefinitely modi- 
fied and expanded, and so the development of voluntary 
command of the motor organs greatly furthered. 

Internal Origination of Movement. In all the forms 
of movement considered so far action is of the reflex or 
sensori-motor pattern, occurring in response to certain sense- 
presentations. A higher stage is reached when movement 
becomes detached from such external sensuous provoca- 
tives, and follows on an internal process of ideation. In 
this way it becomes internally, or, to speak in physiological 
language, centrally, initiated. This internal origination is 
illustrated whenever the idea of a particular movement is 
suggested by processes of ideation, as when a child goes 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 43! 

back on his forgotten promise to do something, and then 
sets about carrying out the action. 

After a certain amount of experience of bodily move- 
ment, and the acquisition of something like a complete 
visuo-tactual map of the moving organs, together with a 
vocabulary of these and their various movements, ideas of 
this, that, and the other movement tend to recur with greater 
and greater facility. Moreover, the extension of the pro- 
cess of repetition or practice greatly furthers the readiness 
to move as soon as an idea arises. Hence there emerges a 
new type of movement, viz., one detached from the special 
impulses and desires which first called it into existence. 
This is illustrated whenever we move a limb from the mere 
wish to do so. 

It is evident that the acquisition of this ability to move 
instantly, and with the required precision, through the me- 
diacy of the mere wish to move, serves greatly to further 
the whole process of motor acquisition. By thus gaining 
a ready command over every variety of ordinary bodily 
movement, apart from other movements, and also from the 
promptings of particular sets of circumstances, the learner 
is put into a much better position for carrying out those 
processes of re-combination of elements through which fur- 
ther advance is secured. 

Voluntary Movement and Consciousness of Pow- 
er. The succession of stages in the growth of voluntary 
movement just described brings with it, in an imperfect or 
obscure form, a new conative element, viz., the conscious- 
ness of self as agent and of its power of producing cer- 
tain effects in the world of presentations. A word or two 
on this concomitant may suffice at this stage, seeing that 
a fuller consideration of the subject will have to be made 
hereafter. 

It was pointed out above that the conative process, 
strictly speaking, ends with the transition from the idea to 
the actual presentation of the movement. What follows 
(process of innervation, contraction of muscle, etc.) de- 
pends on extra-psychical, i. <?., purely physiological, causes. 



432 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

At the same time, these physiological processes contribute 
new psychical elements, viz., not only the full sensational 
form of the active consciousness itself (muscular sensa- 
tions), but also immediately attendant changes in the per- 
ceived surroundings, such as that of the visible scene due 
to the movement of an arm across the field. Now, it is 
these changes in the presentation-scheme which constitute 
the most interesting factor in what we call a voluntary move- 
ment. It is through attending to these changes, as uni- 
formly following (under normal conditions) particular co- 
native processes, that we come by our idea of power or 
causal agency. 

There is reason to think that the child begins to note 
these sequences at an early date, and so to arrive at a dim 
consciousness of its power. At first, this may be supposed 
to take the form of a cognition of the dependence of an 
outward effect, e.g., approach or removal of an object, on 
the movement of " my " limb. As we saw above, the child's 
first idea of self is a sensuous image, viz., that of its cor- 
poreal frame. The actions of its limbs are, as explained 
above, localised in, or referred to, these, and thus con- 
nected with the bodily self. Indeed, this first crude idea 
of self is probably quite as much of a moving or active 
frame as of a sensitive organism subject to pleasure and 
pain. 

As ideation develops the line of cleavage between the 
self and not-self will be shifted. The agent will now be 
thought of as the imaging and desiring subject, and the 
bodily movement will tend, on its visual side at least, to be 
taken up into the group of resulting changes in the pres- 
entation-world. This stage will presumably have been 
reached as soon as movement assumes the internally origi- 
nated form just described. 

Habit. 

General Nature of Habit. The development of 
movement here traced out illustrates in a specially clear 
manner the working of the law or principle of habit, a 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



433 



principle already touched on (see p. 120 f.). A word or 
two may be added in illustration of its working in the do- 
main of movement. 

Habit is a product of acquisition. In this respect it 
differs from instinct, with which otherwise it has much in 
common. We say we do a thing from habit, e.g., nod back 
when a person not recognised nods to us, when as a conse- 
quence of long practice and frequent repetition the action 
has become in a measure organised, and thus shorn of 
some of its original appanage of full consciousness or at- 
tention. The characteristic note of habit is mechanicality. 
In its most forcible manifestation habitual movement ap- 
proaches to a sub-conscious reflex, as in the case just re- 
ferred to. Hence Hartley spoke of habit-transformed 
movements as "secondarily automatic," to distinguish them 
from the " primarily automatic " or congenital reflexes.* 
This falling off in consciousness is, as already pointed out, 
correlated with the circumstance that the nervous structures 
engaged in the action are becoming perfectly ' organised,' 
that is, specialised by formation of definite lines of dis- 
charge into a perfectly co-ordinated mechanism of parts 
fitted for this one mode of function. 

In a wide sense habit includes all t\\e results of repeti- 
tion and practice. Hence an action begins to come under 
the law of habit as soon as it is acquired. It is evident, in- 
deed, that the volitional process in its complete, fully-con- 
scious form is restricted to new, or at least infrequent ac- 
tions. It is only when I have to do something new and 
unfamiliar that I need to realise, with the maximum dis- 
tinctness, in the way supposed above, the idea of the end 
and the idea of the required movement. 

The on-coming of habit is shown most obviously by the 
diminution of effort. Repetition of an action renders it 
easy. This' growing facility in executing a movement is a 
complex psycho-physical phenomenon, depending partly on 

* The student must note the ambiguity of the word ' automatic ' as re- 
ferring now to random, now to reflex movements. 
2S 



434 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



processes of organic growth which involve the peripheral 
organs, as in the strengthening effect of exercising par- 
ticular groups of muscles, shown in a lessening of the mus- 
cular strain ; partly on the formation of the central con- 
nexions already alluded to, which manifests itself in a 
diminution of the strain of attention. 

Along with this increased facility goes increased prompt- 
ness and certainty of motor response. Here we see the re- 
sult of more perfect associative organisation. Thus we 
note the effect of habit in the immediate sequence of a 
movement on the recurrence of the bare idea of a desired 
object, e. g., of an addition of sweetness to our cup of tea. 
Here the intermediate idea of the movement tends to drop 
out or to be ' skipped.' 

A further and more striking result of this fixing of asso- 
ciative connexion is seen in the swift succession of move- 
ment on the occurrence of the connected sense-presentation. 
This is illustrated in the recurring movements of every-day 
life, as taking out a latch key on approaching one's door. 
Where this process is complete there lapses not only the 
initiative idea of the movement, but even the idea of object to 
be attained. Thus when a man automatically winds up his 
watch on taking it out of his pocket during the operation 
of dressing for dinner, the action seems to be wanting in 
all ideational initiation. Here then the habitual movement 
approximates to a pure conscious reflex, movement follow- 
ing at once on a sensational stimulus. 

As a last illustration of the effect of associative co- 
ordination in making movement habitual and automatic we 
may take the case of a series of move?nents already touched 
upon (see p. 199). Simple examples of this are to be found 
in walking, dressing and undressing, in playing from mem- 
ory a well-known piece of music. 

Such frequently repeated chains of movement as those 
just named approximate in their lack of clear conscious- 
ness, their mechanical regularity, and promptness of suc- 
cession to the motor sequences in breathing, and other 
" primarily automatic " movements. These characters im- 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 435 

ply that particular central nervous arrangements have be- 
come completed, by which a stimulus supplied by the 
carrying out of one member of the series of movements 
instantly evokes the discharge required for the carrying 
out of the next member. What differentiates such habitual 
chains from primarily automatic successions is the initial 
volitional impulse. I must consciously and voluntarily 
start the walking, the dressing, and so forth. But the start 
is all, so far as volition is concerned. The succession then 
takes care of itself, and, what is more, is carried out better 
for t/ie non-intervention of attention. We can notundress, we 
cannot spell a familiar word, if we think too much about 
the successive steps of the process. 

Habit and Routine. In the above account of habit the influence of 
the principle has been traced in the production of movement only. Yet, 
as was suggested above when dealing with the feelings and again in treat- 
ing of the desires, habit has to do also with these important antecedents of 
voluntary movements. Taken as including the whole effect of repetition 
in inducing subsequent recurrence, habit shows itself in the tendency of 
most men to be regular and periodic in their desires and impulses. The 
man of routine goes through the whole cycle of his daily avocations largely 
under the lead of habit. Thus certain desires recur at stated times, and in 
this way take on something of the character of those original bodily appe- 
tites which arise through periodically recurring organic feelings. In this 
way the whole series of daily pursuits, the rising and dressing, breakfast- 
ing, going to the place of business, and so forth, tends to get welded into 
a single chain of actions, with, at most, a partial development of desire for 
each succeeding pursuit when the proper hour arrives. 

Degrees of Habitual Co-ordination. It follows from 
our general definition of the principle, that habit will show 
itself in very unlike degrees of strength. The process of 
organic attachment is more or less complete in the case of 
different movements. 

We may estimate the prompting force of habit in more 
ways than one. The most obvious index is, as already 
suggested, lapse of psychical initiation as seen in the swift- 
ness of the motor response. All the popular examples of 
habit, as the story of the victimised soldier who dropped 
his dinner at the word "Attention!" shouted by some prac- 



436 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tical jokers, illustrate this feature. The swifter the re- 
sponse to a particular sense-stimulus, the greater the force 
of habit indicated. Another criterion is speciality or pre- 
cision of response. All habitual actions of the more pro- 
nounced type are definite varieties of movement specially- 
co-ordinated with equally definite varieties of sensation- 
complex. Thus the soldier's loss of his dinner was due to 
the unerring precision of the habitual reaction, the swift 
dropping of the arms into the vertical line on the recur- 
rence of the customary signal. The stronger the habit, the 
more definite or exact will be the response. Another meas- 
ure of strength of habit closely connected with the preced- 
ing is uniformity, or unfailingness of response whenever the 
proper stimulus occurs. This criterion, together with spe- 
ciality or definiteness, gives to habit its unvarying and 
monotonous character, its resemblance to the actions of a 
machine, and to those lower nervous reflexes which come 
nearest to mechanical actions. Lastly, the strength of a 
habit is directly measurable in terms of the difficulty of mod- 
ifying it by special volitional effort. Half-formed habits 
can be easily altered : wholly-formed, only by dint of ex- 
traordinary volitional effort. 

Employing such criteria, we can draw up a scale of ha- 
bitual movement. At the upper extremity we have the 
" secondarily automatic " type of movement. This extreme 
variety approaches the primarily automatic in more ways 
than one. Thus it resembles instinct in its stubborn blind- 
ness and refusal to discriminate. Just as an animal under 
the force of instinct sometimes lays its egg in the wrong 
place through overlooking difference, so a man will now 
and again under the force of habit take out his latch key 
when approaching somebody else's door. 

From this extreme variety downwards we have a series 
of manifestations of habit with less and less of the charac- 
teristics just dwelt upon. Thus the kicking away a stone 
lying on one's path is less habitual than the warding off a 
blow with one's right arm. The movement is less swift, 
less specialised, for the stone will be sometimes removed 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 437 

by the other leg or by a switch of our stick, and less uni- 
form, for we only thrust the obstacle aside at all in a cer- 
tain percentage of cases. 

The main conditions on which these varying degrees of 
habit depend appear to be the following: (1) The amount of 
time and attention given to the particular movement or com- 
bination of movements so as to make it our own. Since 
habit is superinduced on a volitional process, it is evident 
that the action must first be perfectly acquired through a 
conscious process of acquisition. (2) The frequency with 
which the particular stimulus has been followed by the par- 
ticular movement. This condition, repetition, or frequency 
of performance, is the great determinant of strength of 
habit. (3) The unbroken uniformity of past responses. By 
this is meant that a particular stimulus S should have al- 
ways been followed by a particular motor reaction M, not 
sometimes followed, at other times not, or followed by 
another sort of movement, as M'. This condition evidently 
goes to determine the degree of unfaiiingness, as also of 
specialisation in the habit. Thus, children who are some- 
times required to do a certain thing by their parents, but 
now and again allowed to intermit the action, never ac- 
quire perfect habits. 

Habit and Plasticity of Movement. It is evident 
from our account of habit that it is essentially a process of 
fixation, a restriction of movement to definite lines. Ha- 
bitual actions, just because they become sub-conscious and 
largely non-voluntary, are rendered stable and unalterable. 
Habit thus presents one aspect which is opposed to all that 
we understand by development or progress. Itself the 
product of development, it tends in its turn to obstruct to 
some extent further development. We see this in the diffi- 
culty the tyro at the oars encounters in turning his boat, 
rowing with one arm and backing water with the other; 
and in the common failure of stout resolve to break through 
noxious habits. 

While, however, in its narrower and more rigid form, 
habit diminishes the*plasticity of the neuro-muscular appa- 



438 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ratus, it would be an error to suppose that it is wholly an 
obstacle to progress. This would be to overlook the range 
of the principle, its influence in cases where action falls far 
short of the automatic stage, and also to misunderstand the 
nature of motor development. What we call new move- 
ments are never wholly new, and, as pointed out above, the 
perfect mastery of particular movements always helps us 
to the mastery of others. Thus the movements of equi- 
libration and locomotion in skating are, as every learner 
knows, greatly furthered by previously acquired and ha- 
bitual movements. The learning here consists in a few and 
comparatively slight modifications of old combinations in 
particular directions ; and though the modifications may 
be difficult through the obstructive force of the previous 
co-ordinations, they are a far less difficult operation than 
would be the learning of the whole group of movements 
de novo. 

Habit and Volition. The characteristic of habit here touched on 
brings out the relation of habit prompted to voluntary movements. Voli- 
tion, as a conscious process, is selective, and voluntary action consequently 
modifiable. Habit, though a product of volitional activity, tends to be- 
come subconscious and automatic, and so fixed and unalterable. So far 
as this is the case, the movement ceases to be our own in the sense that 
we consciously initiate it, and can inhibit or alter it as circumstances re- 
quire. How far our ordinary habits are thus cut off from the psycho-phys- 
ical process of volition it is difficult to say. In early life, at least, while 
the nerve-centres are as yet plastic, habits may be modified if only a suffi- 
cient strength of motive is forthcoming. This is seen in the possibility of 
learning new combinations of movement, as in dancing, and so forth. 
Even in later life, long and stubborn habits may be broken through by 
men of exceptionally strong will. Yet there comes a time when the pro- 
cess of organisation resists all further modifying influence. 

The Training of the Will through the Exercise of the Muscular 
Organs. The methodical exercise of the muscular organs of the young 
belongs in part to what is called physical education. It is carried on to a 
considerable extent for purposes of bodily health. The march and dance 
of the Kindergarten, the drilling lesson of the school, have a direct refer- 
ence to health, and are dictated by the rule 'A healthy mind in a healthy 
body.' Again, gymnastic exercises of the muscular organs are carried on 
for the sake of attaining a distinctly physical excellence, as a well devel- 
oped physique, robustness, and agility of limb. On another side, the 



CONATION OR VOLITION. 



439 



exercise of the active organs stands in a close relation to intellectual edu- 
cation. This applies more particularly to the hand and the voice. Teach- 
ing children to speak distinctly, to read, and to write, is commonly looked 
on as a necessary mechanical aid to intellectual instruction. 

While the special exercise of the active organs in particular directions 
seems thus to fall under physical or intellectual training, the general 
exercise of them comes more appropriately under the head of moral train- 
ing, that is, education of will. It is in movement that clear purpose and 
intention, as well as perseverance in trial and resolution, first manifest 
themselves. Further, all the more complex actions depend on the attain- 
ment of a general control of the bodily organs. Consequently the exercise 
of these capabilities forms the first stage in the training of the will. 

In carrying out this branch of education it should be borne in mind 
that children are disposed to activity, and in their self-appointed occupa- 
tions and play show that they are capable of making real progress without 
any direct control from parent or teacher. Every young child should 
have ample opportunity for freely exercising his active organs. The im- 
portant part played by imitation in the growth of voluntary movement 
suggests the advantages of companionship in these early occupations. 

The special province of the educator in the methodical control of 
bodily movement begins with showing the child how to do things. This 
requires judgment ; for it is better that a child should, where he can, find 
out the way to do a thing for himself. 

In imposing certain prescribed ways of doing things, as in sitting at 
table, eating, and so forth, the educator becomes in a new and more im- 
portant sense the trainer of the child's will. As we have seen, movement 
under command is one important stage in the growth of voluntary action. 
The exercise of a firm but wise discipline in this early stage of youth will 
do more than anything else to strengthen voluntary power. Here the all- 
important thing is to make the connexion between command and action as 
close as possible, so that the responses may be certain and prompt. 

Almost all school exercises involve the co-operation of the child's 
active powers to some extent. Even the oral lesson demands that the 
learner should take up a certain bodily attitude, and keep the head and 
the eyes fixed in a particular direction. The reading and writing lessons 
and the drilling lesson all call forth muscular activity in their special ways. 
The great agency here is still command supplemented by example, i. e., 
showing the child how to perform the required movement. 

A proper understanding of the principle of habit is a maiter of the 
greatest importance to the teacher in this early stage of will-training. In 
teaching a child to talk, to write, to be well-behaved, and so on, the teacher 
aims at bringing about an easy, rapid, and ^aw-mechanical mode of action. 
A clear recognition of the truth that a perfect habit represents a long 
series of repetitions, will tend to make the teacher patient and hopeful in 
carrying out this part of his work. 



44Q 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



REFERENCES FOR READING. 



On the general nature of volition see Ward, article " Psychology " {En. 
Brit.), pp. 42 f. and 72 ff., and Hoffding, Psychology, vii. A. On the de- 
velopment of voluntary movement consult Bain, Mental and Moral 
Science, bk. iv. chaps, i. and ii. The phenomena of Habit are illustrated 
by Carpenter, Mental Physiology, bk. i. chap, viii., and by W. James, Psy- 
chology, chap. x. On the relation of Bodily Training to Education see 
Waitz, Allgemeine Padagogik, § 7. On the bearings of the principle of 
Habit on Education, see P. Radestock, Die Gewohnung und ihre Bedeu- 
tung fiir die Erziehung. 



CHAPTER XV. 

COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 

Simple and Complex Action. In the previous chap- 
ter we have traced the process by which each of us acquires 
the command of his moving organs. It is in consciously 
bringing these into play that we first carry out conative 
processes, or, as we popularly express it, exercise our will. 
Such voluntary movements, moreover, are the necessary 
pre-condition of all higher and more complex conative 
processes. 

This higher type of complex action is distinguished 
from that simple type of action which we have hitherto 
studied, viz., voluntary movement, partly by the greater 
complexity of the motor factor itself. That is to say, the 
later and more difficult actions consist of integrated series 
of mutually adjusted movements, or combinations of move- 
ments. This is seen by a glance at the complex co-ordina- 
tions which make up the occupations of a man's business 
or profession, as writing a letter, meeting a client, and so 
forth. 

Such complex actions are, it is evident, only possible by 
help of a good deal of preliminary forecasting of result or 
what we have called ideational initiation. It is the growth 
or expansion of this internal ideational factor which most 
plainly marks off the higher region of action from the 
lower region of voluntary movement. 

Since this ideational factor is, as we have seen, at once 
an intellectual phenomenon (presentation), and an affective 
phenomenon (feeling), it follows that the growth of volition 
will depend on that of intellect and of the feelings. 



442 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



(i) The growth of the intellectual factor in volition is 
seen first of all in the multiplication of desires with grow- 
ing experience. The child's first cravings are prompted by 
actual sensations, e.g., hunger, or by percepts, e.g., the 
sight of something agreeable. As the inner ideational life 
unfolds, ideas of pleasure - bringing objects are added 
through processes of suggestion. Thus, as experience 
teaches the uses and enjoyments of common objects about 
him, desires will be awakened by a larger and larger num- 
ber of percepts. Not only so, the growth of ideation will 
enable him to imaginatively move forward to a greater and 
greater distance from the actual present, desiring things in 
the remote future as well as at the particular moment. 

Not only does the growth of ideation thus amplify the 
range of conative impulse by multiplying occasions of de- 
sire, but it serves to introduce greater complexity into 
action. Thus as the range of representation enlarges the 
child will forecast more complex groupings of action, 
together with their consequences, remote as well as proxi- 
mate. A further and important consequence of this grow- 
ing range and complexity of conative representation will be 
the inclusion in the mental forecast of the undesirable along 
with the desirable results of a projected action, and the 
production of that peculiar condition of mind known as op- 
position of impulses. 

(2) The effect of the development of the life of feeling on 
conation is equally marked. In studying the early growth 
of will we assumed that only the simpler feelings came into 
play. The command of the bodily organs is gained to a 
considerable extent under the stimulus of the sense-feelings. 
The first desires and aversions which rouse the muscular 
organs are connected with the pleasures and pains of the 
bodily life and the senses. With these impulses there co- 
operate from an early period others derived from the primi- 
tive or instinctive emotions, such as the love of activity and 
of displaying one's power, rivalry, and the early crude form 
of curiosity, or the desire to inspect objects. The effect of 
the first awakening of social feeling is seen in the impulse 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



443 



of imitation, and still more clearly in that of obedience to 
commands, both of which, as we have found, contribute, in 
an important measure, to the early development of move- 
ment. 

As the feelings grow in number and the higher forms of 
emotion begin to appear, the conative process will be 
prompted by a larger variety of desires. Thus the child 
begins to act for the sake of earning praise, of giving pleas- 
ure to others, or of doing what is right for its own sake. 
In this way each new advance in emotional development tends 
to widen the range of desire in a corresponding measure. 

Motive-Ideas. As the result of a concurrent develop- 
ment of ideation and feeling there now appears a new form 
of conative stimulus. The simplest form of a conscious 
pursuit of end involves, as we saw, merely the representa- 
tion of a single pleasurable experience realisable by a par- 
ticular action. Conation does not, however, remain at this 
level, but comes more and more under the stimulating effect 
of a general aim, as thrift, health. Such aims are, when 
psychologically considered, motive-ideas. 

The nature of these motive-ideas, may be seen by exam- 
ining any common incentive to action, as ambition or thrift 
The impulse to put things aside for the future grows out of 
complex experiences and reflexion on these, such as the evil 
of not having the things when required, the difficulty in 
getting them the moment they are wanted, and so forth. 

Such motive-ideas are further marked off by a clearer 
consciousness of need and of an incomplete self. Thus in 
thrifty action a man is feeling his dependence on certain 
external conditions, the misery of a state of improvidence, and 
the comfort of the opposite state. Here, then, desire takes 
the form of an impulse to realise a new condition of the 
self. 

In the case of other motive-ideas, as ambition, there is 
a still further complication of the motive-structure. The 
boy's desire to get on, to rise to the top of his class, or 
be the captain of the cricket eleven, involves a peculiarly 
distinct form of self-consciousness, viz., of the self as per- 



444 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



manent, and as expanding This again implies a way of 
viewing life as a whole or in its continuity. 

Unification of Action : Permanent Ends. This 
last feature of the higher conation, the viewing experience 
as a continuous whole, constitutes the most important of its 
distinctive characters. Early crude action is piecemeal action, 
that is, the isolated pursuit of this, that, and the other tem- 
porary gratification. The development of reflexion and 
self-consciousness leads to an organisation or unification of 
action into a connected system. Thus ambition when fixed 
as a steady incentive means a recurring motive-idea, leading 
to a succession of progressive actions, the whole constitut- 
ing the pursuit of a permanent end. 

Such permanent ends arise as the product of a growing 
consciousness of the persistent self, its abiding relations to 
the environment, and the interests correlated with these. 
In this way we all of us learn to think of our health as a 
stable, possession to be maintained day after day by a repe- 
tition of certain habitual actions. In like manner we come 
to erect knowledge, reputation, sesthetic culture and enjoy- 
ment into enduring interests and recurrent motive-ideas 
which lead to consistent courses of action. 

Such unification of successive actions into a course of 
action involves, just like the integration of a series of move- 
ments into a methodical action, a reference not merely to 
the temporary, but to the permanent results of each mem- 
ber of the train. Thus a boy who is learning to aim at 
knowledge as a permanent interest will be prompted to pur- 
sue this and that piece of knowledge, not only for the sake 
of the particular pleasure which every intellectual acquisi- 
tion brings at the moment, but for the sake of its subse- 
quent value as an element in the permanent structure of his 
knowledge. 

In the measure in which each individual action is thus 
viewed in its bearing on some portion of our lasting welfare 
our doings become unified or consolidated into what we 
call Conduct. Impulse, as an isolated prompting for this 
or that particular enjoyment, is transformed into a compre- 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 445 

hensive aim and a rational motive. The agent now compares 
his particular actions so as to make them harmonise one 
with another and converge towards one permanent mode of 
self-realisation. Such conscious unification of particular ac- 
tions manifestly involves a clearer idea of a consistent self, 
and has indeed as its secondary motive the intellectual 
gratification which comes from a sense of harmony or con- 
sistency. 

Desiring Means as Ends. As was pointed out above, 
the desire for an object begets a desire for the conditions of 
its fruition, more particularly for the appropriate action. 
Now, in order to carry out any line of action, it seems 
necessary that we should fix attention on the immediate 
result of the act, as that which guides and controls the pro- 
cess. Hence the tendency, according to the principle of 
associative transference of feeling, to erect this proximate 
result into a kind of secondary " end " of the action. Thus, 
if a person feels cold and goes to shut the door, realisation 
of the idea of the closed door becomes the immediate ob- 
ject of his action. That is to say, for the moment he loses 
sight of the initial stimulus, feeling of cold and the idea of 
the desired warmth, and is occupied in shutting the door. In 
the case of pursuing a permanent end, as riches or health, 
this preoccupation of the mind with the means of attaining 
our object becomes still more marked. Money represents 
many alternative possibilities of avoiding ill and realising 
good. A man cannot, it is obvious, represent even a small 
part of these at any one moment. Hence a specially 
noticeable sinking back into indistinct consciousness of the 
primary end in this case, and the engagement of the atten- 
tion by the secondary or derivative end. 

How far the genesis of motive-ideas is thus referrible to 
the action of the principle of associative transference is a 
point of dispute. It is probable that the love of money in- 
volves, in addition to this effect, the co-operation of a 
blind instinct, a modification possibly of that secretive im- 
pulse which, according to some psychologists, is a common 
human instinct ; and the presence of such an instinctive 



446 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



factor seems to be still clearer in the case of the permanent 
ends of knowledge, friendship, and so forth. 

Non-Personal Ends : Desire and Pleasure. In the above ac- 
count of motive-ideas it has been assumed that what the idea stands for or 
represents is some object of desire or end, that is, according to the view 
adopted here, a personal satisfaction or gratification of some kind. An 
idea only becomes a motive-idea when it thus comes into such a relation to 
our active impulses as to constitute the representation of a future (actual 
or possible) enjoyment for ourselves. 

At the same time it must be evident that in the pursuit of these ends 
we do not always distinctly represent the end under the form of a pleasur- 
able satisfaction for oneself. Thus, in the pursuit of science a man often 
loses sight of self, and is said to be ' disinterested.' In other cases the 
exclusion of all personal regard in action seems to be still more manifest. 
Thus in the pursuit of posthumous fame a man appears to be working for 
a result which he knows he will not be able to enjoy. Finally, reference 
may be made to those forms of devotion to others, which are specially 
marked off as disinterested action or self-abnegation. A mother who 
knowingly wears herself out to preserve a delicate child, and the soldier 
who willingly meets death in defence of his country, cannot, it is said, be 
supposed to be representing a future personal satisfaction. This case is, it 
is evident, marked off by the presence of the self-oblivescent attitude of 
sympathy. 

What is the exact relation of these "disinterested" forms of pursuit to 
the seeking of personal gratification is a matter of keen dispute among 
psychologists and moralists. On the one side it is said that all voluntary 
action is effort to realise a pleasurable idea (including the getting rid of 
painful ideas) ; on the other it is maintained that we may, and frequently 
do, desire objects altogether apart from their pleasure-bringing aspect. It 
is probable that we have here to do with a phenomenon of peculiar com- 
plexity. It has been allowed above that there are vague forms of impulse or 
striving which are anterior to experience of pleasure. This instinctive factor 
probably enters into our highest non-personal pursuits, e.g., knowledge and 
reputation. At the same time it seems undeniable that when active im- 
pulse takes on the form of distinct desire for a particular object, the reali- 
sation of this object or end necessarily assumes a pleasurable aspect. In 
desiring knowledge I must think of the attainment of knowledge as a 
mode of gratification, as a change in my condition which will increase my 
happiness. Similarly in desiring another's happiness I necessarily tend to 
conceive of the realisation as pleasurable to me, as witnessing, or at least 
knowing of, the same. It does not follow from this, however, that in pur- 
suing these ends my attention invariably fixes itself exclusively or even 
mainly on this pleasurable or ' felicific ' aspect. Just as in the sesthetic 
contemplation of a beautiful object a man attends immediately to certain 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



447 



prcsentative elements and their relations of harmony, etc., and consequently 
gets the pleasure indirectly, so in pursuing an end, such as the completion 
of an enterprise, or the good of one's country, his attention is fixed on the 
securing of certain objective changes, while the bearing of these on his 
own happiness may for the moment drop out of consciousness. The spe- 
cial fixation of the attention in this case on the securing of certain pres- 
entations is explained by the very nature of voluntary action, in which, as 
we have seen, the thoughts direct themselves to the immediate restdt of the 
action. Habit tends to confirm this, so that a man may go on seeking cer- 
tain object-changes, e. g., increase of wealth, with no reference to personal 
gratification, and even when if he were to reflect he would see that no 
positive pleasure is procurable. In this case, however, the other side of 
desire, viz. t aversion, becomes prominent, for the intermission of habit 
causes pain, and habit-prompted actions — so far as they are consciously 
volitional — may be said to be sustained by aversion to this pain.* 

Complex Action. Action, as we have seen, gains in 
representativeness as we take remote consequences into ac- 
count. And this increase of representativeness implies an 
increase in the complexity of the action. In a special sense 
we may call an action complex when it is not the result of 
a single impulse but involves a plurality of impulses which 
modify one another. 

This expansion of the representative stage of action as- 
sumes one of two contrasting forms. In the first place, the 
desires or impulses simultaneously called up may be harmo- 
nious and co-operative, converging towards one and the 
same action. In the second place, the desires may be dis- 
cordant and opposed, or diverging into different lines of 
action. 

{a) Co-operation of Impulses. The combination of 
two or more elements of desire or impulse in one conative 
process is exceedingly common, and may be said, indeed, to 
be the general rule. Many actions, which seem at first 
sight to have but one impelling motive will be found on 
closer inspection to have a number. So simple an action 

* The view that all ends are resolvable into modifications of pleasur- 
able feeling is represented by Dr. Bain, though this writer allows that vol- 
untary action is apt to be modified by the effect of persistent ideas (idees 
fixes), Mental and Moral Science, bk. iv. chap. iv. The opposite view is 
maintained by Prof. H. Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, chap. iv. 



448 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

as going out for a walk may be motived by a number of 
concurrent impulses, as desire for locomotion, fresh air, and 
change of scene. 

The most interesting example of this co-operation of 
desires is seen in the case when, in addition to the primary 
impulse related to the pleasure following the action, there 
presents itself a secondary impulse related to the activity 
itself. In a large number of our actions the initial impulse 
to realise some end is reinforced by another, to follow out 
an agreeable line of action. In all sportive or play-like 
action, from that of the boy up to that of the tourist in his 
mountain "play-ground," this secondary impulse attains a 
special degree of prominence. 

(b) Opposition of Impulses. The second variety of 
complex action, in which two (or more) impulses come into 
antagonism, is of yet greater importance. Owing to the 
opposition in this case the representative or reflective stage 
of the action becomes much more prolonged and compli- 
cated than is the case where a number of impulses are co- 
operant. In addition to its special psychological impor- 
tance this type of action has a peculiar interest from an 
ethical point of view ; for moral conduct, or obedience to 
the moral law, is the outcome of this mode of complexity. 

Arrest of Action : Inhibition. This variety of com- 
plex action is characterised by the clearer emergence of an 
element in the conative process which we have so far neg- 
lected, viz., the arrest or inhibition of action. This element 
is of course present from the beginning. As we saw in the 
preceding chapter, particular movements are learnt by pre- 
serving them selectively from among a crowd of concur- 
rent movements, which last have accordingly to be re- 
pressed. It is, however, only in the higher region of action 
which we are now considering that this factor of inhibition 
assumes a prominent place. It is when we are simultane- 
ously prompted by a plurality of impulses leading in dis- 
tinct directions, that is, to different lines of external action, 
that the process of inhibition becomes manifest and impress- 
ive. The opposition of motor forces in this case produces 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



449 



an arrest of action which may be temporary only, leading 
to a delay or postponement of the action, or may end in 
its complete suppression. This inhibitory effect of one de- 
sire or impulse on another is closely analogous to the re- 
ciprocal inhibitory effect of competing presentations or rep- 
sentations. 

As already suggested, inhibition is a physiological pro- 
cess as well as a psychological, and seems, indeed, to be a 
general concomitant of psycho-physical action (cf. p. 22 f.). 
That concentration of the mental field which conditions 
clear consciousness is presumably correlated with a corre- 
sponding narrowing of the area of cortical activity. In 
like manner it is supposable that a special and intense ex- 
citation of a certain region of the motor centres, as in 
steadily representing a particular action, will be inhibitory 
to the simultaneous innervation of other motor structures. 
Along with this direct central effect there probably goes an 
indirect peripheral effect, viz., the opposing action of the 
"antagonist " muscles. Common experience tells us that 
when we try our utmost to check an impulse to carry out 
a movement, e.g., the group of movements constituting 
laughter, we bring antagonistic muscles into energetic play. 

Action Arrested by Doubt. The simplest case of 
arrested or inhibitive action is that in which the belief ne- 
cessary to the carrying out of an impulse is checked. In 
the early stages of action we are prone to be confident in 
our powers. We can easily observe in children's first ex- 
periments in movement that they are carried out boldly, 
that is, with a full assurance of success. To these hopeful 
tyros in the domain of human action failure comes as a 
shock. The child looks perplexed, confounded, when he 
first encounters an object too heavy to be moved. These 
failures suggest uncertainty, and this sense of uncertainty 
or doubt will serve to arrest or temporarily paralyse the 
child's action. Thus, after having had experience of his 
inability to lift heavy bodies, he will probably have his im- 
pulse checked the next time he desires to lift a heavy-look- 
ing object. 
29 



450 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The production of this form of arrest will, it is evi- 
dent, depend on the teachings of experience. A child that 
notes its failures as they take place and afterwards recalls 
them will more frequently experience this inhibition of im- 
pulse than one that is unobservant and unretentive. 

The occurrence of this inhibition of active impulse by 
doubt will further depend on certain organic conditions. 
In cases where the vital energies are high, and the motor 
system is vigorous and predisposed to activity, the active 
impulse will be strong and not easily checked. Not only 
so, belief is itself conditioned in part by the same or- 
ganic factor. Where there is a powerful disposition to act, 
there confidence tends to be high, whereas when the vital 
energies are low, and, as a consequence, the active impulse 
is weak, distrust is apt to creep in. 

Recoil of Desire : Deterrents from Action. A sec- 
ond and in general more effective form of arrest occurs 
when desire prompts to a certain action which is repre- 
sented as itself disagreeable, or as leading on to some 
painful consequent. In this case the impulse to realise a 
pleasure is opposed by an aversion to what is disagreeable. 
And so far as this shrinking from a painful experience frus- 
trates the positive impulse, we are said to be deterred from 
the action. 

The first case is illustrated in the general inhibition of 
desire by a disinclination to action, whether through indo- 
lence or through fatigue. An indolent person holds back 
from performing actions suggested to him, and even desired 
for a moment for the sake of their results, under the deter- 
rent force of the idea of the exertion or strain. A state of 
fatigue illustrates a more decided form of the antagonism 
of impulse. Here desire may be strong and urgent, only 
that it is opposed by the deterring influence of weary mus- 
cles or brain. The last dreary stages of a piece of heavy 
work, pedestrian, literary, and so forth, illustrates this type 
of experience. 

The second case in which arrest of action and conflict 
are introduced through an opposition in the results of the 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



451 



action is a no less familiar experience. We are often at 
once prompted to an action by the idea of a pleasurable re- 
sult, and deterred from it by the idea of a painful result. 
Here the collision, the antagonism, is decided and sharp. 
Two strong impulses, the craving for what is agreeable, 
the shrinking from what is disagreeable, assert themselves, 
the first prompting us to do a thing, the second not to do 
it, with the effect that we are ' pulled up,' and for a moment 
at least undecided. 

The effect of the prevision of evil in repressing impulse 
will in this case also vary according to a number of circum- 
stances, such as the relative strength of the attractive and 
deterrent forces, and the height of the active current or dis- 
position to be active at the time. Here, too, we may note 
marked differences of effect according as the temperament 
is wary or cautious, and highly susceptible to the deterrent 
effects of anticipated evil ; or, on the other hand, heedless 
of unpleasant consequences, and impatient of delay — a con- 
trast well illustrated in the case of Macbeth and his wife 
when planning their ambitious crime. 

Rivalry of Impulses. As a third type of arrest, we 
may take the case where there arises a plurality of positive 
impulses. When a man is at one and the same moment 
stimulated to different lines of action by two disconnected 
desires, conflict arises through the prompting of incompati- 
ble impulses. A student, we will say, is fond of music, and 
feels strongly impelled to attend a particular concert. But 
he has to prepare work for to-morrow's class, and he is in- 
terested in the subject, and desires to do his best. Here 
each desire to realise a pleasurable object is opposed and 
inhibited by a desire for another pleasurable object. Hence 
we can describe the state as a rivalry of desires or impulses. 

This rivalry of impulses may assume different forms. 
Thus two actual feelings may prompt in different direc- 
tions, as when, tired and hot after a walk, we are at once 
impelled to rest, and to procure a draught of water ; or the 
desires for two particular objects may come into conflict, as 
in the illustration given above. Other examples are sup- 



452 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

plied in the rivalry of one of the higher motives with a 
lower impulse, as in the common experience of the com- 
petition of the sensual or appetitive and the more intellect- 
ual pleasures, and in the rivalry of motive-ideas one with 
another, as when the pursuit of study comes into compe- 
tition with that of society or of athletics. 

Passive Resolution of Conflict. When we are thus 
at the same time strongly drawn towards and repelled from 
an action, or drawn towards two incompatible lines of ac- 
tion, the antagonism of forces brings about a temporary 
state of inaction, each impulse alternatively moving us in 
this and in that direction. This is a condition of acute 
conflict and profound misery, a state exhibited in its most in- 
tense and impressive form in the moral paralysis of Hamlet. 

Happily such a process of alternate advance and recoil 
is rarely a very prolonged experience. It tends to resolve 
itself without the interference of any new volitional factor. 
Thus, in many cases, one of the contending impulses proves, 
after its full development, to be stronger and more persist- 
ent than the other, and so acquires the mastery as deter- 
mining motive. Many temporary conflicts are in this way 
resolved by the emergence of a mastering impulse. This 
applies more particularly to cases where a higher motive 
comes into play against one of the lower impulses, for, as a 
complex ideational product, the former requires a certain 
time for its full development. 

Again, even in cases where the rival impulses are pretty 
equally balanced, the strife is apt to resolve itself through 
the co-operation of another factor, viz., the pain of the state 
of conflict itself. Where this is keen and intolerable it 
expedites the process by giving an adventitious or bor- 
rowed superiority to the particular impulse which happens 
to be uppermost at the moment. 

Regulated Conflict : Deliberation. The supposition 
of a passive contention and cessation of contention just 
described may be said to represent, roughly at least, many 
pf the earlier and cruder forms of what we have called com- 
plex action, as those observable in the more intelligent ani- 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 453 

mals, and in children. What we mean by the development 
of the will, however, implies a transformation of this passive 
type of process into one having more of the active charac- 
ter, that is, more of the element of active consciousness. 
This added element takes on the specific form of an effort 
of will. 

This form of conative process is seen in its simplest 
manifestation in the conscious endeavor to resist a partic- 
ular impulse of the moment, or the effort ?wt to do a thing. 
Here we have, it is evident, a secondary inhibitory volition- 
al process superinduced on the primary impulsive process. 
This new factor involves a special and difficult exertion of 
voluntary attention. In trying to check an impulse to do 
a hasty and foolish thing I set myself to think of the dis- 
agreeable consequence, and, under the influence of this 
deterring prevision, to banish the idea of the action from 
my mind. This process again is accompanied by the car- 
rying out of vigorous muscular actions, as in clenching the 
teeth, the hands, holding in the breath, and the like, which 
aid in the inhibition of the movement. Such a special exer- 
tion, marked off as effort, is wanting in the pleasurableness 
of moderate activity, and is apt to be fatiguing and dis- 
agreeable. Hence it presupposes a strong motive force 
behind. 

This motive, like other motives, is the product of ex- 
perience. It differs from many of these merely in the high 
degree of its representatives. To will not to act when im- 
pulse urges us on is motived by a shrinking from the evils 
of rash or impulsive action. This motive is a slow growth 
presupposing not merely considerable experience, but care- 
ful attention to the less obvious and less immediate re- 
sults of action, and even processes of comparison and ab- 
straction. 

Action being thus consciously and intentionally checked, 
there supervenes a controlled form of the opposition and 
co-operation of impulse. This is known as Deliberation. 
Here the attention is voluntarily directed to the several 
representations (motive-ideas) so as to ensure a due persist- 



454 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



ence and full distinctness of each, and a proper carrying 
out of what we know as a comparison of their values as 
ends. Thus, if it be simply a question of doing or not do- 
ing a particular thing, we seek to carefully count up the 
advantages and disadvantages, and to set the one against 
the other; or, if it be a case of two rival ends, we en- 
deavour to measure the value of one object of desire with 
that of the other. 

In addition to this deliberation respecting the relative 
magnitude or value of our ends, there is a deliberation re- 
specting the relative advantages of this and that mode of 
securing our end, or what we call means. Here a new in- 
tellectual factor comes in, viz., a comparative estimate of 
practical agencies, that is to say, an exercise of what we 
call practical knowledge and judgment. This kind of prac- 
tical reflexion obviously involves the recalling of past ex- 
periences, the comparison of these, and the carrying out of 
certain processes of reasoning. 

The process of active deliberation here briefly described 
is a higher form of that work of integration or unification 
in which, as we saw above, the whole development of con- 
sciousness consists. To reflect upon our competing im- 
pulses and aims is to make them our own, that is, to take 
them up as elements in a new mode of self-consciousness. 
Since, moreover, all deliberation aims at giving a proper 
hearing, so to speak, to the several impulses or motives 
which demand to be satisfied, it directly leads to a fuller 
investigation of, and reflexion upon, the complex organiza- 
tion which we call the self. 

Choice or Decision. Where the process of delibera- 
tion has been carried out under normal conditions, viz., in a 
healthy mind, and in strict subordination to practical ends, 
it leads on to what is popularly known as an act of choice 
or decision. Thus, after duly weighing the pleasure and 
the pain, the good and the evil, which will result from a 
particular action, such as going in for an examination, the 
one may be seen to preponderate over the other, so that 
we choose or decide to carry it out or not to do so. In 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



455 



such cases we are said to consciously choose or decide 
upon the particular course of action with its attendant 
result. 

Here, it is evident, we reach a higher degree of organ- 
isation of the conative process. The selection of a par- 
ticular action as the result of deliberation makes this 
action my own in a new and fuller sense. Choosing to do 
a thing, by the very slowness and deliberateness of the 
process, gives rise to the clearest form of active self-con- 
sciousness, investing the conative process with the form 
"/ will." Such a process of elective decision, with the con- 
comitant consciousness of full self-assertion and self-mani- 
festation, reduces the chaos of competing impulse to order 
and unity. 

Here, again, the essential psychical factor, seems to be 
an act of volitional attention. Just as deliberation is a de- 
signed maintenance in consciousness of certain motive- 
ideas so as to secure a due comparison of magnitudes, so 
the final decision is the intentional maintenance of a par- 
ticular idea so as to secure its realisation in action. Thus, 
when deciding to serve a friend or to set about a difficult 
piece of work in spite of more attractive suggestions, we 
are specially directing attention to, and so realising, the 
idea of the greater or more important end. 

It is not, however, to be supposed that the process of 
deliberative or rational decision ordinarily takes the lengthy 
and orderly form here described. For one thing, there is 
in no case such a perfect active control of the process 
throughout as has been here assumed. The organic con- 
ditions spoken of above, viz.,the impulse to do something, 
and the impatience of the painful state of conflict, always 
contribute to the result. That is to say, where any de- 
cision is arrived at it is, in every case, determined in part 
"passively" or mechanically, by the forces making for 
action, and apart from any conscious decision or fiat of the 
form " I will." 

Not only so, a prolonged process of reflexion and de- 
cision such as we have imagined is precluded in many cases 



456 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



by the urgency of circumstances. Our every-day decisions 
have to be carried out swiftly to meet the demands of the 
moment. A man of decision is one who by practice and 
training has learnt how to shorten the process, to take in 
the whole situation by a rapid and intense effort of mental 
concentration, and, what is equally important, has the prac- 
tised judgment needed for disregarding a multitude of 
relatively unimportant points, and so simplifying the prob- 
lem of choice. 

The process of choice or decision takes on a specially 
rapid and compressed form in all cases where a comparison 
of ends as more or less important, and of means as more 
or less suitable, are alike excluded, and the problem is 
reduced to a discrimination of a particular presentation, 
and a selective carrying out of a corresponding or ap- 
propriate action. This simple type of elective decision 
is illustrated in many of our every-day actions, as in the 
swift decisions by help of which one "dodges" the cabs 
in crossing a London street. It has been found by experi- 
ment that when there has been a certain mental rehearsing 
of the several possible situations beforehand, the brain gets 
specially ' focused ' so that the required action may be 
singled out and put into execution so rapidly that there is 
no conscious process of choice ?t all. 

It follows from the above account of the higher conative 
processes that they are a product of two factors, viz., active 
impulse and reflexion, or what moralists call " practical 
reason." Volition, qua volition, is of course always activ- 
ity, and the highest no less than the lowest type of cona- 
tion is a manifestation of active impulse. Thus the check- 
ing of an impulse, so far from being z'/zactivity, is a par- 
ticularly strenuous and difficult form of activity. The 
man who when confronted with an action to which he is 
inclined says, ' I will not do this thing,' is in an intensely 
active state, as may be seen by comparing the situation 
of an indolent person, who can only say, " I have no will 
to do it." At the same time all the later regulative ac- 
tivity is only possible through the higher development of 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



457 



intellectual processes. Thus, as pointed out above, the 
initial motive to such deliberation is the product of a 
memory of, and reflexion upon, the results of hasty or im- 
pulsive action. A youth who cannot think never feels the 
desire to pause and deliberate. The carrying out of the 
deliberative process, moreover, evidently presupposes a de- 
veloped intelligence and a trained power of steady atten- 
tion. In other words, a normally developed will is neces- 
sarily an "enlightened will ." 

Resolution : Firmness of Will. In many cases our 
decision instantly passes into action, as when, for example, 
a gambler decides to stake a particular sum, and instantly 
places this amount. Here, it is evident, there is no time for 
a full and distinct emergence of the psychical state, ' I re- 
solve to do this action.* In other cases the carrying out 
of the action decided upon may through the nature of the 
circumstances be postponed, as when we decide in the 
morning to pay a visit in the afternoon. Here the attitude 
of determination becomes definite and persistent. Such a 
state is best marked off by the name Resolution. 

Resolution represents the most complete process of 
volition. There is not only the presence and unopposed 
preponderance of a particular desire, not only a distinct 
representation of, and desire to perform, an appropriate 
action, but also the maintenance of this idea in conscious- 
ness for an appreciable time. Such prolongation of the in- 
stinctive stage of action, moreover, allows opportunity for 
the fullest development of the active form of self-con- 
sciousness, the state of mind indicated by ' I will.' Hence 
the state of resolution is popularly regarded as an essen- 
tial factor in all utterances of "Will." Resolution, though, 
as we have seen, not distinctly present in all actions (rapid 
sequences of performance on decision), is a common factor 
in the more reflective and deliberative form of volition. 
Thus, it enters into all actions which involve a prolonged 
activity, that is, a series of movements. In carrying out a 
mechanical process as carpentering, in looking up a friend, 
or in preparing for an examination, we must, it is plain, 



458 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



maintain from the outset a state of determination or resolu- 
tion with respect to the later stages of the performance. 
The frequency of uncompleted action illustrates this point, 
for the abandoning of things when only partly done means 
that the attitude of resolution was not strong enough. 

In all persistent resolution we have a new display of 
" will-power." Strength of will is commonly judged of by 
steadiness and pertinacity of resolve, and more particularly 
what is popularly known by firtiiness. This is illustrated in 
the maintenance of the resolute attitude under heavy and 
prolonged discouragements. Such pertinacity in the face 
of difficulty, as in the crossing of the African forest by 
Stanley and his party, has a noble aesthetic aspect. Hence 
the frequency of its illustration in fiction, as in the quiet, 
heroic perseverance of Jeannie Deans in her journey 
south. A like firmness shows itself where resolution is 
maintained in the face of seductive allurement. 

Such resoluteness or firmness constitutes a particular 
volitional quality. It is not by any means the same thing 
as the ability to choose and decide from among a number 
of alternative courses. There are men of a light, versatile 
habit of mind who are equally adept in framing decisions, 
and in abandoning these on the appearance of the first ob- 
stacle or temptation, just as there are others of a " dour " 
temperament who are slow and awkward in deciding, but 
having once decided, are preternaturally firm. It is need- 
less to dwell on the moral importance of the quality. It is 
only as men are known to be resolute that they are to be 
counted on. 

While, however, firmness is the very backbone of what 
we call will, it is apt to take on an exaggerated and hurtful 
form. This is known as self-will in its undesirable form, 
viz., love of opposing others on its own account. As pointed 
out above, a developed will is rationalised in the sense that 
the conative process is illumined by calm reflexion. Ac- 
cordingly, self-will or obstinacy, when it amounts to a re- 
fusal of others' counsels and suggestions, to a determina- 
tion under no circumstance to reconsider a resolve once 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 459 

taken, becomes irrational. Such rigidity of resolution is 
manifestly fatal to growth. The wise man combines firm- 
ness in ruling principles with a certain modifiability in par- 
ticular decisions. 

Process of Self-Control. Through the development 
of these higher processes of deliberation, intelligent choice 
and resolution, we acquire what is popularly described as 
the power of self-control. This expression brings out the 
fact that the later and maturer stage of volition implies a 
systematic and intelligent regulation of the earlier and 
more instinctive impulses through the stable formation of 
motive-ideas and motive-principles. The operation of these 
regulative motives is accompanied with a peculiar dual form 
of self-consciousness, viz. (as the expression ^//"-control 
suggests), the opposition of a lower and more passionate 
to a higher, more thoughtful, and more judicial self. It is 
only as the higher motives grow so predominant as to ha- 
bitually repress the force of the lower impulses that this 
divided self-consciousness gives place to a new and a larger 
consciousness of a united self. 

The attainment of this condition in which ideational 
motive preponderates over sensuous or instinctive impulse 
presupposes a process of physiological development. As 
pointed out above, the rise and expansion of the ideational 
life is conditioned by the growth of higher nerve-centres. 
The motive-ideas, which, as general aims or principles, guide 
the actions of reflective men, are presumably correlated 
with those nerve-centres which are concerned in the forma- 
tion and the maintenance of general ideas (see p. 260). 
This inference is supported by such facts as that when 
overtaken by fatigue and loss of vigour, as through over- 
exertion or ill-health, the power of self-control is sensibly 
impaired, that it is manifestly interfered with by an excess- 
ive use of stimulants and other practices injurious to the 
nervous system, and that its decline is one of the earliest 
symptoms of the on-coming of senile decay and of mental 
disease. 

The processes of self-control have a positive or stimu- 



460 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



lative, and a negative or inhibitory aspect. The first is 
illustrated when we do a difficult action ; for example, leap 
out of bed on a cold winter's morning under the prompting 
of a representation of work to be done. The development 
of the higher ideational motives means an extension of our 
incentives to action, and the introduction upon the voli- 
tional scene of promptings which are strong and effectual 
in cases where natural inclination is weak and ineffectual. 
In this case we may suppose that more complex nerve-pro- 
cesses supply the initial innervational impulse which the 
simple nerve-processes fail to supply. The second or in- 
hibitory aspect is illustrated whenever we restrain an im- 
pulse to act, or decide not to do a thing, as in declining a 
tempting invitation on the ground that its acceptance would 
throw us behind with work. Here we may suppose that 
the higher cortical centres exert an inhibitory influence on 
certain lower centres which are partially excited in connex- 
ion with the prompting of the impulse to act. 

The volitional processes known as self-control assume 
a somewhat different form in three cases. In the first place, 
the effect of the psycho-physical process in the operation 
of the motive-idea may be to excite or to repress action, as 
in the examples given above. This we will call the con- 
trol of action. In the second place, its effect may be to 
modify the phenomena of feeling, and more particularly 
emotion or passion, as when we repress anger. This is 
commonly spoken of as the control of the feelings. Lastly, 
its effect may be to modify the course of intellectual phe- 
nomena, percepts and ideas, as when a student under the 
stimulus of a love of knowledge deliberately concentrates 
his attention on a particular subject to the disregard of 
other and attractive matters. This is known as the con- 
trol of the thoughts. Although, as we shall see, these 
forms of the process of conative regulation are not radi- 
cally distinct, it will be convenient to deal with them sepa- 
rately. 

(a) Control of Action. After the above account of 
the process of self-control in general little need be added 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 461 

as to the particular form of it marked off as control of 
action. Remembering that the process is at once an exci- 
tation and a repression of action, we may proceed to indi- 
cate briefly the successive stages of its growth. 

The simplest manifestation of the process here consid- 
ered occurs when the effect of an actual feeling is counter- 
acted by the mere anticipation of another simple experience 
of pleasure or pain, as when a child overcomes his indo- 
lence and sets about preparing his lesson in order to earn 
some promised treat, or when he stops his noisy play in 
obedience to a command, and from a fear of being pun- 
ished. 

A higher stage of control is reached when intelligence 
is developed and motive-ideas representing the enduring 
ends, or interests, such as health, reputation, and knowl- 
edge, come into play. Here, as has been sufficiently ex- 
plained above, action comes under the control of more com- 
plex and intellectual conative products, particular actions 
are brought into a relation of consistency and unity one 
with another, and so take on a more reflective or rational 
character. 

This process of unification is carried a step higher, and 
action consciously brought into a relation to a single con- 
sistent self in what has been called prudence and, better, 
(practical) wisdom, viz., the intelligent pursuit of the high- 
est personal good. By this is meant that the several aims 
and interests of life are thought of together, compared as 
to their relative magnitude or importance, and adjusted in 
such a way as to yield the greatest sum of happiness to the 
individual. This implies the subordination of each of the 
enduring interests, as health, knowledge, to a still higher, 
more comprehensive, and more abstract principle of action, 
in which the consciousness of self as an organic unity grows 
more distinct and prominent. 

As a crowning stage in this development of self-control, 
we may take the superinducement on the motive-idea an- 
swering to the individual's personal or private good of the 
yet larger motive-idea representing the common or general 



462 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



good. This form of self-control is distinguished by its pe- 
culiar moral importance. The chief aim of ethics, accord- 
ing to the modern view, is to determine the proper adjust- 
ment of the claims of the individual and of the community ; 
and normal development of volition involves the strength- 
ening of the other-regarding as against the self-regarding 
motives. This is effected to some extent by the growth of 
the motives answering to ' common ' interests, as knowl- 
edge and art, since these lift the individual above the 
thought of merely personal good; but it involves in addi- 
tion the strengthening of motives which are distinctively 
moral, viz., of duty, benevolence, and generally what we 
call humanity. 

The operations of self-control here described when car- 
ried out with full explicit consciousness assume the form 
of acts of obedience to a self-imposed command. Thus a 
man restraining appetite, or speaking the truth in face of 
serious risks, may be said to be applying to himself the rule 
or maxim ' Be temperate,' ' Be truthful' In this way, as 
moral development advances, we pass from mere obedience 
to an external authority to obedience to the inward voice 
of reason and conscience. 

(b) Control of Feelings. We saw above that all feel- 
ing is organically connected with muscular action or move- 
ment. In this way it is brought into a certain kinship with 
action, especially with the earlier and cruder forms of this 
last. Accordingly the regulation of the feelings is allied 
to that of the actions. Control of passion appears to take 
its rise in the inhibition of the motor factor in emotional 
display, as the movements of the limbs, the actions of the 
voice in an outburst of passionate grief. The effect of this 
inhibition is clearly illustrated in the endurance of pain, 
e. g., under a surgical operation, which is effected primarily 
and mainly through an energetic repression of movement 
by means of an innervation of particular groups of an- 
tagonist muscles, e.g., of the jaws, of the hands in clench- 
ing the arms of a chair, and so forth. Owing to the or- 
ganic continuity of the whole emotional process, it is found 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 463 

that the arrest of external movements tends, to some extent, to 
allay the zuhole excitement. We control a feeling of laughter 
in unsuitable circumstances by carrying out energetic in- 
hibitory actions of the respiratory and other organs. 

What the exact effect of this inhibition of external 
movements will be in any given case depends on a number 
of varying conditions, as the strength of the feeling, the 
history of its rise, and the particular emotive temperament 
of its subject. If an emotion, say of animosity, is intense, 
and if, further, it has been gathering in force for some 
time, the suppression of its external signs may do but little 
to reduce the intensity of the feeling itself. The man or 
woman may, while outwardly calm, go on nursing the pas- 
sion internally by brooding on ideas of satisfaction. Tem- 
perament will affect the result through the difference be- 
tween the volatile or readily changing, and the tenacious 
or stubborn character of the feelings. In the former case, 
which is in general exemplified by the young, a slight 
amount of motor inhibition may suffice to stem the affect- 
ive current, whereas, in the latter case, the effect of a con- 
siderable restraint of movement may be but small. 

So far we have touched only on the inhibition of the 
feelings. But here, as in the case of the control of action, 
there are at once a process of restraint and one of excita- 
tion. Paradoxical as it may sound, the volitional regula- 
tion of feeling includes an intentional rousing of emotive 
states. The simplest form of this volitional excitation of 
feeling is seen in all histrionic imitation. Here, it is evi- 
dent, we have the counterpart of the inhibitory motor fac- 
tor in the restraint of passion. The mimic takes on the 
outward motor manifestations of the feelings he repre- 
sents, such as the facial movements, gestures, bodily pose, 
and modifications of vocal action. Such assumption of 
motor concomitants, by introducing a part of the bodily 
resonance of the feeling, tends in a measure to develop 
this last. 

The control of the passions, while thus analogous to 
that of movement, is a distinct process having its peculiar 



464 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



difficulties. Thus, owing to the state of excitement or 
commotion in emotion, there is a special difficulty in mas- 
tering the expressive manifestation of feeling. This is seen 
plainly enough in the " tyranny of the passions " in the 
child and the savage. Not only so, emotion depends not 
only on an organic, but also on an ideational (representa- 
tive) factor, and its complete control includes, as we shall 
see presently, the difficult art of controlling the thoughts. 

(c) Control of the Thoughts. As has been illus- 
trated above, the work of intellection is essentially one that 
is actively instituted and maintained. The processes of vo- 
litional attention constitute a main factor in what we under- 
stand by thinking. This applies alike to the selective con- 
centration of the attention upon particular sense-presenta- 
tions in observation, to recollection or the active recalling 
of past experiences, to the constructive rearrangement of 
imaginative material in what is specially marked off as im- 
agination or invention, and to the varied and complex forms 
of elaborative activity which enter into the processes of 
thought. After the consideration already given to this 
point we need only add a few words on the distinctly cona- 
tive or volitional aspect of the process. 

The regulation of the ideational processes, as in seek- 
ing to recall an idea, illustrates the two characteristics of 
conative phenomena, viz., active consciousness, and initia- 
tion by representation of end. 

That volitional attention is an active state has already 
been sufficiently illustrated and explained. An effort of 
thought, as in trying to localise a quotation, or to find the 
explanation of a difficult and crabbed fact, has much in 
common with an effort to carry out a difficult bodily action. 
There is a factor of muscular tension in each case, and 
this seems to some extent to consist of the same constitu- 
ents, e. g., strong compression of the jaws, and the inhib- 
itory process known as holding one's breath (see above, 
p. 87). 

In the second place, it may be easily seen that these 
processes of volitional attention are directed by a con- 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 465 

scious representation of an end. Thus when an interesting 
idea "strikes" us, and we proceed to fix our attention on 
it and to trace out its suggestions, there is, it is manifest, 
an endeavour to realise the pleasure of a fully developed 
ideational process. The pleasure in this case may lie partly 
in the contents of the ideas and their relations one to an- 
other, partly in the activity of attention itself. 

The same thing is seen in those more difficult exercises 
of ' volitional ' attention which involve some degree of the 
painfulness of effort, i. e., excessive exertion. These exer- 
tions are forthcoming when a sufficient strength of motive, 
aided by the requisite organic vigour, is present. Here, 
then, as in executing a difficult movement, we are seeking 
to satisfy some craving, to attain a particular pleasurable 
condition. Thus in casting about for the solution of an 
intellectual problem we are helping to reinstate an idea or 
idea-complex, which by filling a gap and rendering an idea- 
tional whole consistent and intelligible, will give us intel- 
lectual gratification. 

Connexion between Control of Thought, Feel- 
ing' and Action. While we have thus distinguished be- 
tween three forms of control, we may easily see that they 
always involve one another to a greater or to a less extent. 
This follows, in the first place, from the mutual opposition 
of the three psychical functions. Since feeling, thought 
and action are in their intenser and more fully developed 
form mutually exclusive, it is evident that the positive fur- 
therance of any one by a process of conation will involve 
the inhibition of the others. A word or two will suffice, 
after what has already been said, to make this clear. 

To begin with the effects of feeling, since emotional 
excitement agitates and disturbs the whole psycho-physical 
system, disarranging the mechanism of attention, and sub- 
stituting a capricious feeling-determined succession for a 
logical order in the flow of the thoughts, it follows that 
the perfect command of the intellectual processes presup- 
poses the control of the feelings. In order to think we 
must first be calm and self-possessed. Inasmuch, further, as 
30 



466 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

emotion takes possession of the muscular system, it is plain 
that the inhibition of feeling is a necessary pre-condition 
of a full command of the motor organs, and consequently 
of action. We cannot act so long as we are excited by 
merriment, paralysed by fear, and so forth. In like man- 
ner, so far as external (muscular) action and internal 
thought are opposed states of mind, the perfect command 
of the intellectual processes will include the inhibition of 
movement. 

We may now look at the relation between the control 
of the thoughts, of the feelings, and of the actions, as de- 
termined, not by the opposition, but by the connexion be- 
tween these mental states. And here we have to do with 
two cases, namely, the dependence of feeling on intellection, 
and of action on intellection and feeling. 

(i) We have seen that all emotion is excited in connex- 
ion with certain intellectual phenomena, presentations and 
representations. We are glad and sorry, laugh and sigh, 
because of the occurrence of certain corresponding ideas, 
as when we anticipate a success, or imagine a painful situa- 
tion. Hence the importance of a command of the intel- 
lectual processes as a condition of a regulation of the feel- 
ings. Since, moreover, emotive ideas are specially persist- 
ent, being sustained by the force of feeling (see p. 364), 
this control of the ideational factor in ' emotion ' is a mat- 
ter of peculiar difficulty. A like remark applies to the vol- 
untary fostering of an emotion by mentally fixating certain 
ideas, e. g., moral, religious, for the fixation necessary to 
the bringing on of feeling is commonly a prolonged and 
difficult process. 

(2) It has been sufficiently shown that both feeling and 
ideation are involved in action. To desire, to consciously 
exert oneself in the pursuit of an end, is to be under the 
influence of an affectively coloured idea, e. g., that of a de- 
lightful intercourse with a friend, of a holiday tour, of a 
rise in reputation. It follows that a full regulation of ac- 
tion includes that of the feelings and of the thoughts so 
far as provocative of these. Here, again, we may see the 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 467 

connexion illustrated alike in the excitation and in the in- 
hibition of the phenomenon. We only rouse ourselves to 
arduous and worthy deeds by steadily fixating the con- 
nected ideas. It was by the growing imaginative realisa- 
tion of the coveted power that Macbeth's faint heart was 
excited to the pitch of effective volition. In like manner, 
it is only through the volitional repression of those idea- 
tional and affective processes out of which conation takes 
its rise that the perfect inhibition of action is attained. A 
vindictive impulse cannot be said to be completely mas- 
tered until the feeling of anger out of which it springs is 
stifled, and consequently until the idea of the injury which 
excites the feeling is banished from the mind. Hence the 
importance assigned in the best ethical systems to the con- 
trol of the desires and thoughts ' of the heart.' 

Volitional Control of Belief. The close organic con- 
tinuity of the several processes described as self-control is 
illustrated in the volitional regulation of our beliefs. These, 
as pointed out, although primarily intellectual phenomena, 
are profoundly influenced by the affective factor of mind, 
and to some extent by the active also. Popular language 
suggests that believing is to some extent a matter of voli- 
tion. Thus, to mention but a single writer, Shakespeare 
makes his characters bid one another believe and not be- 
lieve, speaks of making oneself and others believe, and so 
forth ; that is to say, applies to believing the same forms of 
expression that we all apply to acting; and the reason of 
this is now plain. Belief is apt to accompany all ideational 
groupings which reach a sufficient measure of vividness and 
stability. Now one chief condition of this effect is feeling 
or interest. Such a process clearly involves a rudimentary 
form of conation. That is to say, we attend to particular 
ideational complexes because of their greater interest, or 
tvith a view to the pleasure which they yield us. This co- 
operation of a rudimentary conative impulse is especially 
apparent in cases where we half-knowingly indulge for the 
nonce in an illusory belief, as in ' day-dreaming,' in fiction- 
reading, etc. 



468 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

From this there is but a step to a more distinct volitional 
process, viz., the conscious endeavour to believe a thing. The 
influence of the emotions, as personal affection, and the 
religious sentiment, upon belief, is apt to assume this form. 
Here we represent a particular state of conviction as de- 
sirable, and volitionally aid its realisation by appropriate 
acts of attention, purposeful or half-purposeful detention 
of the ideas favourable to the belief and rejection of those 
unfavourable. Religious systems recognise the duty of a 
volitional development and maintenance of faith by a suit- 
able direction of the thoughts. 

In those processes which we call the logical control of 
belief, that is to say, its adjustment to the requirements of 
an objective standard, the modifying action of volition is 
still discernible. Here the process includes the prompting 
of a highly representative motive, viz., the love of truth, 
and is directed, on the one hand, to the subjugation of the 
forces of passion and of impatience which favour hasty 
and erroneous belief, and, on the other hand, to the secur- 
ing of that large impartial reflexion on all the relevant cir- 
cumstances which is the only guarantee for the emergence 
of a just and true conclusion. In this case, too, then, there 
is still a desire and a will to believe, only that it is a will to 
believe what is true, that is to say, a volitional -process 
initiated and sustained by a logical feeling or a regard for 
truth as such. 

Limits of Control : Measurement of Volitional 
Force. Each of the forms of volitional control just illus- 
trated has its limits. Thus there is a state of lethargy or 
depression of active energy, out of which even the most 
powerful motive may fail to rouse the subject. At the 
other extreme there is a strength of instinctive or " or- 
ganic" impulse which no ideational motive can overcome. 
The story of the horrors of shipwrecked mariners, and so 
forth, illustrates the fact that no moral or other considera- 
tion will hold back a man from slaking thirst when the 
appetite reaches a certain intensity, and the means of ap- 
peasing it are brought within tantalising distance of his 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 469 

lips. In like manner the control of feeling has its limita- 
tions. There are hurricane blasts of passion, as when Lear 
first takes in the fact of his daughters' perfidy, against 
which the will is, for the moment, powerless; and, on the 
other hand, there is a depth of emotional languor or insen- 
sibility which defeats every effort to feel. Lastly, in the 
region of thought and belief the same fact of a limitation 
of volitional effort meet us. There are certain organised 
forms of experience variously called " inseparable asso- 
ciations," "necessary beliefs," and so forth, which set 
bounds to our powers of thinking. Thus the scientifically 
trained mind rejects the idea of an event which contra- 
dicts an ultimate " law of nature " as possible and absurd. 
There is a certain amount of convictive evidence that 
the strongest desire to believe in a friend's honour will 
not surmount. 

These limitations are not the same in the case of all in- 
dividuals. The limit to control of appetite in the case of 
the drunkard and of the temperate man is obviously a 
widely different one. What we call strength or force of 
will is, indeed, measured by the " height " or maximum 
degree of intensity of the force counteracted. Thus we 
say a man has a strong will when he can rouse himself to 
face a cruelty of destiny that would reduce many to a state 
of impotent cowardice, as in the Hebrew and Greek stories 
of those who, in obedience to a divine behest, have sacri- 
ficed their own offspring on the altar. 

Judged of in this way, strength of will is proportionate 
to the amount of resistance overcome. Now the counter- 
action of an opposing force is precisely that which necessi- 
tates an "effort of will," that is, a moral as distinguished 
from a physical or muscular effort. We make an effort 
when we do that which is difficult and "unnatural," in the 
sense of not doing the thing we are first impelled to do ; 
and this, whether in acting, notwithstanding the inertia of 
sluggishness or the certain prospect of suffering, or, on 
the other hand, in declining to act, when to do so were to 
realise a considerable gratification. We may say, then, 



47Q 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



that strength of will is proportionate to the intensity of the 
effort producible. 

Habit and Conduct : Deliberation as Habitual. 

While will is thus measured by amount of effort, it is 
equally certain that what we call a strong will is not in 
general hampered by sense of effort. Effort is psycho-phys- 
ical friction, and action when perfect becomes free from 
this accompaniment. This brings us to consider the effect 
of repetition and habit on the higher conative processes. 

The influence of habit is seen in the deliberative process 
itself. Although deliberation is a slowing and complica- 
tion of action, a substitution of a reflective for an impul- 
sive and ^zw-mechanical process, it comes in its turn 
under the modifying influence of practice or habit. Thus 
in the early stages of volitional development, when action 
is first arrested by an apprehension of evil consequences, 
there ensues conflict and confusion of aim. But successive 
efforts to master the conflict, and to decide according to 
reason, serve to render subsequent acts of reflexion and 
decision easier. The vehement forces of impulse have now 
been reined in to some extent. Every new exercise of the 
power makes the pause, the consideration, the final calm 
decision a less arduous process, removes something of the 
initial biological 'friction,' and gives to the process more 
of the ease, the fixity, the naturalness of habit. " Custom 
hath made it in him a property." Such a habit of deliber- 
ation brings with it deliverance from what the ancients 
spoke of as the " tyranny " of appetite, or of the passions. 

Moral Habitudes. But the principle of habit pro- 
duces other effects in this region of conduct. The final 
decision after deliberation, if a rational and good one, does 
not need to be arrived at again and again in all similar cases. 
A particular exercise of self-control, say the quelling of a 
feeling of annoyance, or the determining to do some un- 
pleasant duty, which, in the first instance, was the outcome 
of a process of reflexion, will, in succeeding cases, be short- 
ened or compressed into control without such preliminary 
reflexion. 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



471 



Here we may see that the process of self-control is be- 
coming habitual in a new sense. Certain motives are ac- 
quiring a fixed place in the mind as ruling forces, organ- 
ically connected with appropriate actions, while other and 
lower forces are losing ground. Every repetition of the 
situation calling out this particular variety of action (that 
is, of action having this particular motive or reason) tends 
to fix conduct in this direction, that is, to establish a habit 
of doing. The prevailing motive, for example, punctuality 
in fulfilling engagements, now passes into the form of a 
fixed inclination or active disposition. Or, to express the 
resul£ another way, we may say that conduct is brought 
more fully under the sway of a general rule or maxim. 
This result is what is known as a moral habitude. Where 
the process of organisation is complete, the vanquished 
impulse survives in a nascent form only, so that its full 
force is never experienced. 

The word habitude is here used to mark it off from 
'habit' in the narrow sense of mechanical response. In fol- 
lowing out a general maxim we never act mechanically as 
when we repeat a particular kind of action. The contrast 
is well shown in the case of economy. There is a general 
practice of economy which has an element of the intelli- 
gent and rational in it. On the other hand, it has often 
been noted that most people tend to be specially given to 
saving in particular directions, as clothes, and even such 
trifles as string and pins. Here Che unthinking mechanical 
characteristic of habit stares us in the face.* 

Volition and Character. The word character (from 
the Greek x a P aKT VP> mark or stamp) is used in every-day 
language to mark off almost any sort of difference in men- 
tal qualities. In a narrower and stricter sense the term in- 
volves a special reference to qualities belonging to the 
active side of the mind. Volition, in its rationalised form, 
conduct, being the final and most important outcome of 

* Mrs. Gaskell has some remarks at once accurate and amusing 
on these quaint narrowings of the impulse of economy. {Cranford, 
chap, v.) 



472 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



mind as a whole, the word character has naturally come to 
connote in a peculiar manner those qualities, as active 
energy and deliberation, which go to constitute the higher 
type of will. 

According to the more popular use of the term, every 
individual has his own stamp or character. This individual 
character is, as we shall see more fully presently, fixed 
partly by the peculiarities of the person's psycho-physical 
' nature,' or what we call temperament and idiosyncrasy, 
and partly by the action of the forces of the environment 
develop selectively certain of these peculiarities. 

In addition to this every-day meaning the word char- 
acter has acquired an ethical significance. As employed 
by the moralist, it refers not to variable individual pecul- 
iarities, but to certain moral qualities which it is supposed 
to be the special business of social discipline and education 
to cultivate in all alike. In this ethical sense ' character ' 
has come to stand for 'good character.' This may be de- 
fined as a morally disciplined will, including a virtuous 
condition of the whole mind, that is, the disposition to 
think and feel (as well as to act) in ways conducive to the 
ends of morality. 

We thus see that every good or moral man possesses a 
character in a double sense. In the first place, he has a 
particular group of intellectual, affective and conative pe- 
culiarities which constitute his individual character. In 
the second place, he possesses certain virtuous principles 
and dispositions which make up the typical moral char- 
acter and which assimilate him to other moral men. This 
moral character, though it presupposes the organic base of 
a typical human development, may be spoken of as an ac- 
quired product, the result of the action of that set of 
external influences which constitutes the educative action 
of a civilised and moral community upon a normal human 
mind. 

(a) Character as Organised Habit. Confining our 
selves now to moral character, we see at once that this 
consists in the possession of certain acquired tendencies or 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 



473 



habitudes which we call virtues, both what moralists dis- 
tinguish as private ones, for example, temperance and pru- 
dence, and as public ones, such as veracity, justice, and 
benevolence. The excellence of the character can be esti- 
mated by the fixity and the preponderance of these vir- 
tuous dispositions. The less the disturbing force of the 
instinctive factor (passion, appetite), the more highly de- 
veloped the character. Thus our idea of a perfectly tem- 
perate man (6 o-w^pwv) is of one who does not fully come 
under the force of the impulse of appe ite. The height of 
moral character attained in any case is thus determined by 
the fixity and the commanding influence of the virtuous 
disposition, which again is measurable in terms of the 
facility, or absence of conscious effort, of the controlling 
process. 

(b) Character as Conscious Reflexion. While, how- 
ever, moral character is thus woven out of fixed habitual 
dispositions (Aristotle's e£eis), it would be an error to con- 
ceive of it as merely a cluster or group of such habitudes. 
According to the biological or teleological view of mind, 
the habitual, that is, the relatively z/«-conscious and me- 
chanical, comes in only so far as features and situations of 
the environment recur in perfectly like form, and so re- 
quire similar modes of reaction (cf. p. 123). Now while it 
is true that the external conditions of human life, physical 
and social, are so far recurrent that our actions may be or- 
ganised into a certain number of persistent norms or types 
of conduct, as thrift, temperance, fulfilment of promise and 
the like, they are not so uniform in their actual, concrete 
combinations as to allow of our particular actions becom- 
ing in the complete sense habitual. It may often require 
a good deal of reflexion before we can say what is the 
honest or the just course of action. Not only so, the selec- 
tion of the wise and the morally good action must always 
remain a reflective process in those cases in which the 
complexity in the conditions of our life involves the ap- 
pearance of a collision between what we see to be equally 
good and valid principles. The finding out of the right 



474 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



thing to do means, in all such cases, the difficult task of 
adjusting the claims of this and that principle; for exam- 
ple, health and academic distinction, public service and 
promotion of family interests. 

It follows that the ideal of a wise and a good man, or a 
perfect character, is one that combines promptitude and 
even a certain impatience of reflection in cases allowing of, 
and calling for, rapid and partially automatic responses, 
with a reserve of wariness, with a readiness to pause and 
reflect as soon as new features, and especially an unfamiliar 
complexity, present themselves. In other words, the per- 
fect character is the one that exhibits just that proportion 
of the reflective to the impulsive in its actions as is required 
for the fullest, exactest, and most economical adjustment 
of conduct to the circumstances of the environment. 

Relation of Higher to Lower Volition. In the 
above account of the higher and more complex processes of 
volition it has been assumed that it is continuous with, and 
developed by known psycho-physical processes out of, the 
lower and cruder forms. We have not found any abrupt 
break in the process of development. At the same time, 
there are certain obvious differences between the earlier 
impulsive and the later reflective volition. Thus it lies 
on the surface that this last is differentiated by certain 
features of special dignity and moral value, viz., a distinct 
consciousness of self as agent, of power, and of free- 
dom. 

These later characters have been supposed by some to 
constitute a difference not merely of degree but of kind 
between impulse and volition of the complex form, i. <?., 
conscious choice and resolution. According to this view 
there intervenes in the higher stage of action a new prin- 
ciple lying outside the chain of psycho-physical events alto- 
gether, though breaking in upon and modifying this from 
time to time. This principle is known by such expressions 
as Free-will, the self-determining ego, and so forth. We 
have now to review the higher processes in the light of this 
theory. Here two phenomena of peculiar complexity will 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 475 

specially engage our attention, viz., [a) effort of will, and 
(b) the consciousness of freedom or free-will. 

Volitional Effort : Consciousness of Power. The 

characteristics of the sense of effort have been touched 
upon above. In a wide sense "effort" is used as synony- 
mous with active consciousness, and so is co-extensive with 
the whole field of conation. In a narrower sense it is con- 
fined to those severer and more or less painful exertions 
which are required in circumstances of special difficulty. 
Effort is thus intensification of active consciousness above 
the moderate pleasurable limit. 

The experience of effort occurs in different forms. (1) 
The most familiar one is that of special muscular strain. 
This arises when an action to which desire impels us is ex- 
cessive relatively to the power of the organ at the moment, 
and so irksome and fatiguing. The disagreeable feeling of 
strain in lifting a heavy weight, in walking when fatigued, 
and so forth, are examples of muscular effort. In all such 
severe muscular exertion there is a considerable range of 
motor innervation. 

(2) Along with muscular effort there goes the related 
phenomenon mental effort, that is, effort of attention. Here, 
too, the essential circumstance is energising, under the 
stimulus of an urgent desire, to an extent which is ex- 
cessive in relation to the power of the moment, and so in- 
volves the disagreeable accompaniment, a feeling of strain. 
It follows from the analysis of mental activity and voli- 
tional attention given above that this is closely related to, 
and has a factor in common with, muscular effort. 

In the case both of muscular and of mental effort the 
irksome and disagreeable feature in the action tends as a 
mode of pain to arrest the impulse. When, however, the 
impelling motive is strong enough the action will be sus- 
tained in spite of the disagreeable concomitant. Not only 
so, in many cases where the motive is an exciting one, as 
when a boy is performing a muscular feat in order to win 
admiration, or a pupil is trying to answer his master's ques- 
tion before the other members of the class, there is no dis- 



476 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tinct representation of the pain before acting, and conse- 
quently no shrinking from it. In such a case there may- 
be the consciousness or feeling of effort during the action, 
but there is not an effort of will or "moral effort" in the 
full sense of this expression. 

(3) This last form, moral effort, occurs when the painful 
feature or circumstance is distinctly anticipated and resolutely 
confronted by the mind. Thus the tired labourer who goes 
on facing his dreary task carries out an ' effort of will ' in 
the complete sense. Here the feeling of effort is an ingre- 
dient in the initiation, and may indeed be described as an 
effort of decision and of resolution. It is most strikingly 
illustrated in the higher kinds of moral effort, as when a boy 
persists in befriending an unpopular boy in spite of ridicule. 
Such effort to make good the deficiencies of prompting im- 
pulse may be called assistant or supplementary. 

As we have seen above, however, an effort of will is re- 
quired not only when a difficult or ' non-natural ' thing has 
to be done, but when an alluring and eminently natural 
thing has not to be done. Thus, in turning away from an 
enticing prospect, say that of a day's excursion in the coun- 
try, in deference to a behest of duty, we carry out a variety 
of effort which may be marked off as resistant or inhibitory. 

Effort of will, then, in all its forms, whether to do or 
not to do, appears to be specially connected with an initial defi- 
ciency of motive force. In making an effort we seem to throw 
in our strength on the weaker side, either encouraging and 
aiding a weak ' I will,' or reinforcing a feeble, half-hearted 
'I will not.' Thus the effort involved in jumping out of 
bed on a frosty morning seems to have as its object to 
neutralise the momentary preponderance of certain agree- 
able sensations. Similarly in mastering some explosive 
impulse, as to resent a piece of insolence. 

The explanation of this apparent exception to the gen- 
eral principle of willing, that action is the result of the de- 
sires (and aversions) excited at the moment, has been hinted 
at above. This effort of will, appearing in cases of insuffi- 
ciency of stimulus at the moment, is due to a secondary co- 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 477 

native process, viz., a. preliminary volitional attention to the rep- 
resentations concerned. This secondary process is best de- 
scribed as an act of reflexion. It implies a special direc- 
tion and concentration of attention, either on an idea fitted 
to rouse the reluctant action (e. g., the value of a prize), or 
on one fitted to excite aversion to, and so abstention from, 
the impatient action {e.g., the evils of self-indulgence). In 
either case it has as its effect the rendering of particular 
constituents of the ideational group called up at the mo- 
ment more distinct, prominent, and persistent, and, as a re- 
sult of this, of securing the maximum development of their 
conative force as motives. 

As implied also in what has been said above, this act of 
attention, like all other actions, is prompted by its proper 
motive, which may be called the motive of reflexion, and which 
is a product of thought about our experiences. It has more 
of the characteristics of aversion than of positive desire, 
since it is a recoiling from the evils or pains incident to 
hasty action on the one side, and neglect or hasty aban- 
donment of it on the other. 

Finally, it may be said, with some degree of confidence, 
that the phenomena of volitional effort lend themselves to 
a psycho-physical description. The intervention of effort 
as an altering, reversing factor, analogous to the addition 
of a weight which turns the scale, probably means in physi- 
ological language the co-operation of certain highest or 
latest developed nerve-structures, the action or discharge 
of which makes good the biological deficiency, or effectu- 
ally inhibits the biologically excessive action of certain 
lower nervous planes. That the special intervention of 
these in the case should have as its concomitant a sense of 
effort, of obstruction to be overcome, is just what we should 
expect from our general conception of the relation of con- 
sciousness to the hierarchy of the nerve-centres. 

It remains to add a word on the consciousness of power 
which is specially developed in connexion with this experi- 
ence of volitional effort. As we saw above, the conscious- 
ness of self as an agent capable of producing certain ef- 



478 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

fects or changes in the environment begins to arise, from 
the first, in connexion with the experiences of voluntary- 
movement. As the process of volition expands by the en- 
largement of the ideational initiative stage, this conscious- 
ness is enriched by a fuller representation of the self, its 
feelings, and active tendencies. It is, however, only when 
the work of development is carried far enough to allow of 
the experience of consciously reinforcing a weak, or mas- 
tering a strong impulse, that the consciousness of power 
grows distinct. It is in the process of controlling the 
promptings of desire by special directions of attention that 
we realise most vividly our power over our actions. Here 
a new form of the Ego, the critical scrutinising 'me,' seems 
to appear behind the old impulsive ' me.' 

Consciousness of Freedom : Free-Will. The cul- 
minating phase of volitional development is action accom- 
panied by the consciousness of freedom. Since this is 
among the most subtle and complex of psychical phe- 
nomena, and has given rise to prolonged and heated dis- 
cussion, we must take special pains in the definition and 
analysis of it. 

The idea of freedom as an aspect of the volitional pro- 
cess appears to be borrowed or derivative. Freedom, in its 
primary meaning, and as popularly understood, is the op- 
posite of external force or compulsion. We are free so far 
as we are not physically constrained to do things. In this 
sense it is obvious that all voluntary acts are ' free.' The 
child becomes free in the measure in which it grows inde- 
pendent of external restraint and is allowed to act for 
itself. 

We reach a secondary and narrower idea of freedom 
when we contrast our calm and deliberate actions with those 
carried out under a stimulus of unusual and all-mastering 
strength, as in the case of actions issuing from explosive 
passion, e.g., anger or jealousy, or those carried out by an 
all-possessing instinctive impulse, as recoiling from immi- 
nent danger of life. In these latter instances there is an 
analogy to the overpowering effect of physical compulsion. 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. ^g 

A man yielding his purse to a highwayman who presents 
a loaded pistol is, if not physically, at least morally 'co- 
erced.' 

In contradistinction to this quasi-coercive impulsive ac- 
tion, deliberation presupposes a certain calmness and an 
opportunity for a full, impartial representation of our sev- 
eral desires. As a wide competing play of desire, issuing 
in cool ' rational ' choice, the process of deliberate cona- 
tion gives rise to a particularly distinct sense of freedom, 
or of self-determination. Action initiated by reflective 
choice may indeed be said to exhibit the characteristics of 
" conscious" action, delay, complexity of initiative process, 
selective action of attention, modifiability by introduction 
of new psychical factors, in their highest intensity and dis- 
tinctness. As such they naturally appear, in contrast to the 
simpler, more mechanical and extraneously conditioned 
types of action, to be self-conditioned. 

This realisation of the ego as freely intervening and de- 
termining the result grows specially distinct in all cases 
where moral effort enters in. To diminish the effect of a 
hasty impulse by a strenuous effort of attention to ideas of 
which it took no account, is in a specially emphatic manner 
to strike at the tyrannous monopoly of impulse, to modify 
action by the addition of a conscious process, to assert one- 
self as supreme. Hence it begets a particularly clear ap- 
prehension, not only of self as agent or cause, but of self 
as selecting or as freely determining the issue. 

Psychology and Philosophy of Free-Will. In the 
above account of free-will we have been concerned merely 
with the psychological problem, viz., the constituents which 
go to compose the psychosis which we commonly describe 
as our feeling or consciousness of freedom. Closely con- 
nected with this scientific problem there is an extra-scien- 
tific and philosophical one, which has to do with will as a 
spiritual principle or substantial entity, and with freedom 
as an attribute of this. 

The metaphysical supposition of freedom first took 
shape in connexion with theological discussion. According 



480 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



to the Necessitarian view of the Divine control of human 
affairs, man is predestined to act as he acts, and conse- 
quently to sin. The doctrine of freedom was a protest 
against this depressing doctrine. It maintained the exist- 
ence in man of a self-determining power by the assertion 
of which he may choose to act otherwise than the circum- 
stances and motives determine. In its modern and purely 
philosophical form the dispute has resolved itself into one 
concerning the existence and efficient action of any such 
occult principle. The Determinist says that all our actions 
are the product of conditions, which may be roughly sub- 
sumed under the two factors, circumstances and character. 
The upholder of Freedom maintains that in all the higher 
manifestations of will, deliberation and choice, we have in- 
tervening a new spiritual force or principle. He adds that 
the sense of freedom enters in a peculiarly striking man- 
ner into the feeling of responsibility which accompanies 
moral action, and which makes us blame one another and 
blame ourselves for wrong-doing. 

Since the philosophical question thus appeals to the facts 
of experience or consciousness it comes into contact with 
psychology. Indeed, the modern Determinists, as J. S. Mill, 
H. Spencer, and Bain, argue against the supposition of 
metaphysical freedom by a thorough-going psychological 
analysis of the psychical processes involved. 

It has been allowed above that the consciousness of 
freedom exists. Thus in all reflective choice we do un- 
doubtedly look on the result as in a peculiar sense the out- 
come of our own minds. This, however, does not necessarily 
lend support to the metaphysical hypothesis of a self-deter- 
mining will behind, and occasionally interfering so as to 
modify the phenomenal process or chain of events. On 
the contrary, our analysis has proceeded on the supposition 
that there are certain peculiarities in these more intricate 
conative processes which account for the development of the 
sense of freedom. These peculiarities are the delay of action, 
the expansion of the area of motive, and the superinduce- 
ment of a secondary motive process, viz., the regulation of 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 481 

the primary process by acts of selective attention. Since we 
have assumed that throughout these processes motives are 
at work, this psychological view does not, it is evident, offer 
any evidence in favour of the metaphysical idea of Freedom. 
All that we can ever do in deliberation is to develop the mo- 
tive forces latent in the several desires ; and this calling forth 
of latent forces is itself an action having its own appropri- 
ate motives behind it. 

A similar line of remark applies to the moral phenome- 
non, sense of responsibility. An analysis of this mental state 
suggests that we have here to do merely with a modifica- 
tion of the situation of deliberation. In saying ' I must act 
rightly, for I am a responsible being,' I am simply express- 
ing the strength at the moment of a particular motive to 
deliberation, viz., the fear of doing wrong or aversion to the 
penalties of wrong-doing — whether external ones, or the in- 
ternal sufferings of conscience. For the rest, when on look- 
ing back in a penitent mood on a past wrong action, a man 
says : " I know I could have acted differently," this may be 
taken to mean either (1) that he clearly recognises the fact 
that had he felt as he now feels with the new moral motive 
supervening, he would have acted otherwise; or (2) that he 
is unawares projecting this new feeling into the past self, 
and so falling into the illusion of comparing the self as it is 
constituted at one moment with the self as it is constituted 
at another and later moment after new experience and re- 
flexion have been added. Here, again, the psychical state 
may be accounted for without having recourse to the idea 
of transcendental freedom. 

The doctrine that action may be undetermined or unmotived by de- 
sire and aversion (as above defined), though having its strongest apparent 
support in the higher volitional processes of self-control, is rendered plausi- 
ble to some extent by the difficulties of recognising all the factors even in 
cases where ' effort of will ' does not co-operate. Sometimes the real mo- 
tive may escape detection from its very faintness, e.g., in many capricious 
actions of an easy kind motived by the mere love of displaying individu- 
ality, of baffling prediction, and so forth. In other cases the forces at 
work are largely organic and sub-conscious, as the ' blind ' stirrings of ap- 
petite, and the effects of organised habit. The sum of these tendencies, 
31 



482 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

making up what we call the fixed character, represent the result of a pro- 
cess of organisation extending beyond the limits of the individual life into 
that of his ancestors. To this it may be added that in all our actions there 
is a variable temporary factor, viz., the peculiar psycho-physical mood of the 
moment, including a greater or less readiness to ace somehow, a factor which 
causes the same ' motive ' or prospect to have very dissimilar values and 
results at different times. This, too, serves to give an appearance of ar- 
bitrariness to voluntary action even when we observe it subjectively, that 
is, in ourselves. And when we consider it objectively in others, this sem- 
blance of indeterminateness is, of course, greatly increased through our 
ignorance of the motive-processes themselves. Nevertheless, a deeper 
understanding of the processes involved leads to the conclusion that in 
every case action is determined by the group of forces (psychical and physi- 
cal) operating at the time. It may be added that a scientific psychology, 
which sets out with the assumption that psychical events can be explained 
or accounted for by certain conditions, cannot consistently make room for 
the idea of freedom, so far as this implies indeterminateness of action. 

Education of the Will. Our analysis of the process 
of volition has disclosed the fact that what we call will is a 
product illustrating the general laws of all mental acquisi- 
tion. The power to will, like the power to think, grows by- 
exercise. The practical problem of training the will and 
forming the moral character must be based on this truth. 
To develop the ability to decide, to act, is essentially to 
exercise the mind in the carrying out of these processes. 
We learn to do by actual experiments in doing. 

Now, every exercise of will, being itself a volition, must, 
it is obvious, have its adequate motive. When we are deal- 
ing with the development of another's will, as in the edu- 
cation of the young, we have to secure the required motive 
force by the well-known educational agencies, as fear of 
punishment, desire for commendation, affection or desire 
to please. Here, indeed, the problem of developing will 
resolves itself into the question how to call forth useful 
character-forming actions, involving a certain amount of 
self-restraint and moral ' effort ' under the stimulus of 
motives supplied by the child's relation to its social envi- 
ronment. 

When, on the other hand, as in the later stages of ' self- 
education.' it is our own will that has to be trained there 



COMPLEX ACTION : CONDUCT. 483 

seems to be an insuperable difficulty. How, it may be 
asked, is it possible before the will is formed to carry out a 
volition which aims at something so high as an improve- 
ment of the faculty ? This difficulty is, however, less se- 
rious than it looks. An adequate motive may in this case 
be supplied by the workings of our own mind : it grows out 
of a comparison of the actual self with a possible ideal self. 
This situation is illustrated in all effort to alter the ruling 
disposition, that is, to improve the character. Here the 
supreme importance of attention as a factor in voluntary 
action acquires a new practical significance. As we have 
seen in dealing with the several forms of self-control, and 
more especially with the phenomena of moral effort, the 
special direction of attention to an idea serves to modify 
its feeling-value, and so its motive force. Education of 
will, in the sense of developing one's character, turns on 
this fact. If only a desire to be better exists we can our- 
selves contribute towards the improvement by furthering 
from time to time the reinstatement of the appropriate 
motives so as to fix them as dominant forces. 

All education of will is further a practical application 
of the laws of habit. If the teacher had to go on using all 
the force which he is required to use at the outset, or if 
the self-educator had to continue making the severe initial 
effort, progress would be impossible. The very idea of de- 
veloping will and of forming character is based on the as- 
sumption that impulse and motive can by a methodical 
repetition of action be set in definite lines. 

Special Problems of Moral Education. The educator is concerned in 
a very special manner with forming the will and the character of his pupils. 
This educational control of the young will include, first of all, the supply- 
ing of motives to good conduct. The parent or teacher by holding out 
the prospect of penalties and rewards, is able to alter the directions of 
childish action. But the discipline of the will is more than this. It in- 
cludes the art of guiding the young mind in reflecting on the results of his 
action, of calling into play as motives feelings which are feeble and fitful, 
and apt therefore to be stifled in the surging of stronger inclinations. It 
follows that the training of the will will include in a measure the exercise 
of the intellectual powers, and the cultivation of the emotions. 



484 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



It may be assumed here that the need of authority, of command, or 
what is more especially meant by discipline, arises as soon as the child ac- 
quires by the growth of his bodily organs a wider scope for action, and by 
the development of intelligence is enabled to understand the meaning 
of words. Unless he were prohibited from doing this and that which his 
love of activity, curiosity, or other impulse, leads him to do, he would 
seriously injure himself and be a nuisance to others ; and unless encourage- 
ments were held out, the child would fail to make some of the most valu- 
able efforts. 

A system of moral discipline implies that certain consequences, and 
more particularly disagreeable consequences or punishments, are uniformly 
attached to actions of certain kinds. The very beginning of discipline is 
the institution of a rule or command of a general nature embracing a cer- 
tain class of actions, and prohibiting these by definite penalties. Hence 
the most essential conditions of a good discipline, as that the rule must 
be intelligible, dealing with distinctions in conduct which the child can 
understand, and that rules must be enforced uniformly, so that the child 
will closely associate the action with the consequence. 

More special considerations affect the limits and proportion of punish- 
ment, since all punishment is suffering, and as such tends to estrange edu- 
cator and child. It should only be inflicted when seen to be necessary, 
either for the good of the offender himself, or by way of example and 
warning to others. Again, it is often a matter of delicate judgment to 
decide what is the proper degree or amount of the punishment in a given 
case. The most important consideration here is that the punishment is in- 
tended to supply a counteracting motive. If it does not supply a sufficient 
force, it is useless ; while if, on the other hand, it is more than adequate 
for the purpose of counteracting an impulse, the excess is so much cruelty. 
Like considerations bear upon the kind of punishment to be selected. 

Discipline includes not only the checking of impulse by deterrents, but 
the stimulating of activity by positive inducements. That is to say, it makes 
use not merely of the child's natural aversion to pain, but of his equally 
natural and more far-reaching desire for pleasure. Here, again, there is 
room for wise discernment and moral judgment in determining the right 
occasion and ground of reward, and the amount of reward merited. Just 
as in the case of punishment there are the two extremes of over-severity 
and laxity, so here there are the extremes of lavish and stinted reward. 
The moral effect of reward will depend much on what is regarded as the 
ground of merit. To recompense effort and industry, as distinguished 
from intellectual ability, has a much better effect on the growing character 
of the young, since it serves to accentuate and dignify the moral element, 
the exertion of will, in all intellectual attainment. 

Discipline both on its negative and on its positive side is intended to 
be temporary only. It is the scaffolding needed for the building up of the 
simpler moral habitudes. As the habits grow in fixity, they become inde- 



COMPLEX ACTION: CONDUCT. 



485 



pendent or self-supporting. The educator may best help on this higher 
stage of moral attainment by exercising the powers of reflexion and judg- 
ment, and strengthening the higher emotions. This can be effected to 
some extent in connexion with the processes of discipline themselves. 
A moral habit, such as veracity, is, as we have seen, only fully formed 
when the child's mind has come to reflect about it and voluntarily to adopt 
it as a thing of real worth. Over and above this the educator should take 
care to secure to the child a free region of activity uncontrolled by authority 
where other feelings besides those specially appealed to in discipline 
may come in as motives, and where the powers of reflecting and choosing 
may be brought into full activity. Play owes no little of its moral value to 
the fact that it provides this area of unrestricted activity. As children's 
minds develop they should be encouraged to decide more things, and more 
difficult things, for themselves. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

On the more complex processes of volition and their relation to primi- 
tive action, see Bain, Mental and Mo>al Science, book iv. chaps, iii.-vii. ; 
James, Psychology, chap. xxvi. p. 528 ff. ; Hoffding, The Outlines of Psy- 
chology, vii. B. Moral habit and character are specially dealt with by 
Carpenter, Mental Physiology, chap. vii. 

On Discipline and the Formation of Character, see Locke, On Educa- 
tion, especially §§ 32-117 ; Miss Edgeworth, Practical Education, chap. 
ix. ; Mdme. Necker, U Education, livre i. chaps, iv.-vi. ; and livre vi. 
chap. iv. ; H. Spencer, Education, chap. iii. ; Bain, Education as Science, 
pp. 100-119. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT : INDIVIDUALITY. 

Unity of Mental Development. The three move- 
ments of the mental life just traced, viz., that of intellectual, 
affective, and conative growth, though capable by an artifice 
of abstraction of being traced out separately, are, as already 
hinted, intimately conjoined. A word or two in addition to 
what has been said above on this organic unity of our con- 
scious experience may fittingly close our detailed examina- 
tion of psychical processes. 

We have found each of the three psychical factors, the 
cognitive or presentative, the affective, and the conative, as 
a primitive element, asserting itself to some extent as a 
separate functional tendency. The baby in the first week 
of life manifests the rudiment of intellectual activity, of 
feeling, and of motor impulse. The actual concrete form 
of the mental life is developed by the conjunction and ever- 
varied interaction of these psychical forces or tendencies. 
Without attempting to follow out the endless variety of 
product thus resulting, we may just refer to the two more 
important modes of combination or interaction : (a) that of 
intellectual activity with feeling, and (b) that of intellectual 
activity and feeling with conation. 

(a) Interactions of Intellect and Feeling : In- 
terests. That the development of feeling and of ideation 
are parts of one total process of mental growth has been 
already implied. The supposition of an intellectual life 
without any tinge of feeling, or of an emotional life unsup- 
ported by presentations, is an error. Our ' horde ' of ideas, 
e.g., that corresponding to our social experience, our pro- 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



43/ 



fessional pursuits, our art-studies, etc., is vitalised and to a 
large extent penetrated and cemented by feeling. On the 
other hand, even the most violent passion involves an idea- 
tional process. 

It is evident that we have here to do with a growth, 
pari passu, of two concurrent factors, each of which is 
affected by, and in its turn affects, the other. This is seen 
in the formation of those fixed presentative-affective groups 
with their attractive and repellent tendencies which we call 
interests. A boy acquires a strong keen interest, say in 
cricket, by acquiring knowledge of the game, its practice, 
and its rules, its history, its prominent heroes, and the like. 
This knowledge, again, is in its turn the outcome of certain 
pleasurable sensibilities, as love of physical exercise and 
social likings. 

(/>) Interactions of Intellect and Feeling with Co- 
nation. In dealing with the development of conation it 
was pointed out that this is throughout conditioned by the 
growth of ideation and of emotion. This dependence is 
clearly recognised in the common order of psychological 
exposition. A developed will is a product of active impulse 
enriched by additions of the stimulative element of feeling 
and the illuminative element of intellection. 

Here, too, however, we have to do with a reciprocal ac- 
tion. Not only does the growth of feeling and of ideation 
thus minister to the normal expansion and consolidation 
of activity, but the production of a firm and enlightened 
type of volition reacts on feeling and thought. As pointed 
out in our account of the processes of self-control, the cul- 
tivation of emotion and of intellect alike includes a regu- 
lative volitional factor. The intellectual man is ipso facto 
the volitional man so far at least as the voluntary direc- 
tion of the attention is concerned. Similarly, though less 
manifestly, does the highest realisation of the emotional 
nature depend on a volitional factor. Thus the epicurean 
who thoughtfully plans out his life so as to get the great- 
est variety of refined pleasure with the least possible amount 
of disagreeable drawback must have, not only some of the 



4 88 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

range and precision of intellectual view of the man of sci- 
ence and of the philosopher, but some of the indomitable 
firmness of will and completeness of self-control of the 
ascetic himself. 

It is thus evident that in spite of the fact that intellec 
tion, feeling, and active impulse are distinct psychical 
forces or tendencies, and that in their most energetic forms 
they assume the aspect of hostile or incompatible tenden- 
cies, they are organically implicated, so that there can be 
no normal and complete development of one without a con- 
current and correspondent development of the others. 

Typical and Individual Development. The com- 
plete harmonious development of mind just described, which 
involves a proportionate fulness of each of the constituent 
phases, and of each constituent in its several distinguish- 
able varieties, is an ideal never perfectly realised. The 
actual concrete minds which we know all exhibit deviations 
from this typical scheme in one or another direction. Thus 
we find now a special intensity of feeling, an emotional ex- 
citability or passionateness, which is in excess of the pow- 
ers of thought and of volition. In like manner we see men 
who are intellectually great but are lacking in a commen- 
surate power of general volitional control ; and others who 
to much energy in action and firmness of purpose join in- 
tellectual narrowness, and emotional dulness. 

It follows from what was said in the preceding section 
that such one-sided development always involves a limita- 
tion also in the power that seems to be predominant. Thus 
so-called emotional persons will commonly be found in 
reality to feel strongly and quickly in certain directions 
only, as amour-propre or a narrow and intense form of sym- 
pathy {e.g., maternal compassion). This truth that one- 
sided development is also incomplete development even on its 
one side is of the greatest practical importance. In study- 
ing and dealing with men we require to know not merely 
on which side (intellect, volition or feeling) they are strong 
and weak respectively, but also in what particular directions 
of intellectual activity, and so forth, they are so. 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 489 

The problem of determining and formulating the several 
modes of variation of mental development is a subject 
which has hardly begun to be seriously grappled with. The 
innumerable varieties of individual character among civil- 
ised men appear indeed to defy any attempt at scientific 
analysis and classification. In a work on general psychol- 
ogy like the present this problem can only be touched 
upon. 

Varieties of Mind. If we regard the human beings 
we know, we are struck at once by the fact of numerous 
diversities. Each individual has a mind which, while it is 
an example of the common type of mental structure, is at 
the same time something unique, a peculiar group of psy- 
chical or, if we include the correlative nervous factor, psy- 
cho-physical tendencies. 

A little inspection shows us that these variations are 
measurable in different ways. Thus, to begin with an ob- 
vious distinction, we may arrange men according to their 
place in the scale of mind. In any community there is a 
scale of mental power and of correlative brain-power, from 
arrested development and imbecility up to the highest 
manifestations in the few great minds. This mode of esti- 
mating minds is the one commonly employed by the anthro- 
pologist in determining the place of particular races in the 
evolutional scale. 

In the second place, we may distinguish and classify 
minds according to the relative force or prominence of 
the several psycho-physical tendencies which constitute 
mind. In this way, for example, we get the contrasts of 
temperament and character which appear in general between 
the two sexes, and among different races at the same level 
of culture, and among individual members of the same 
race and community. These differences may be roughly 
marked off from the first as differences of grouping or of 
mental pattern. 

These variations may be more general or more special 
and individual. As an example of the former, we have the 
preponderance of the emotional over the intellectual, and 



49© 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



so forth (in the sense already defined). The more special 
individualising differences are illustrated by the particular 
bent of intellectual activity manifested, the relative strength 
of the several emotional susceptibilities and aims. As im- 
plied above, there is the special intellectual aptitude for 
this or that group of ideas, and a corresponding ineptitude 
in other directions. Thus, as already pointed out, there 
are men observant and retentive in respect of certain classes 
of sense impressions, e.g., visual presentations, and, more 
narrowly, of one group of these, as colors. Not only so, 
we see a further limitation of the special intellectual bent 
connected with a peculiar interest in a group of concrete 
objects, as is illustrated in the special intelligence which 
some persons manifest with reference to human faces, and 
generally what may be called personality, a specialised 
mode of intelligence found in many women. 

These differences in combination of psychical elements 
or mental pattern doubtless have their nervous correlatives. 
Just as evolutional height is correlated with the degree of 
cerebral development as a whole, so psychical pattern 
presumably corresponds with the particular structural con- 
figuration, and the relative development of the several parts 
of the brain. The later researches in cerebral anatomy 
and physiology enable us to perceive, to some extent, 
wherein such differences of cerebral configuration consist. 
At the same time, our knowledge does not as yet enable us 
to determine these correlations with any degree of certainty 
(see above, p. 27). 

Scientific View of Individuality : Measurement of 
Psychical Capacity. It follows from the above defini- 
tion of individual variation, as a peculiar combination or 
mode of grouping of elements, that a scientific treatment 
of the problem must set out with the elementary or funda- 
mental psycho-physical constituents. These are the tissue 
out of which the mental organs which we call faculties are 
formed. Every observable difference of individual minds 
ought to be susceptible of being exhibited as a result of 
particular groupings of these elements in certain ratios of 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



491 



strength. In order to solve this problem two conditions 
have to be satisfied. First of all we must know what is ele- 
mentary or fundamental. In the second place we must be 
able to measure these elementary forces with something 
approaching to scientific exactness. 

With respect to the first of these conditions, it may be 
confidently said that our psychological analysis, aided by 
the physiology of the nervous system, enables us to some 
extent to solve the problem. Thus we have seen that all 
intellectual ability is in general determined by the perfec- 
tion of the senses together with the closely conjoined in- 
tellectual function known as discrimination. Fineness, or 
delicacy of discriminative sensibility, is thus one funda- 
mental element of intellectuality. Further, we have learnt 
that power of attention, as illustrated in prolonged fixation, 
rapid transition from object to object and grasp or compre- 
hensiveness, assimilation or readiness in detecting similari- 
ties, as also retentiveness and associative power, are funda- 
mental constituents of intelligence. In the case of feeling, 
again, we have traced down all emotional susceptibility to 
certain organically determined sensibilities to pleasure and 
pain ; and similarly we have found in active impulse under 
its double form, attention and (psychical) movement, the 
fundamental element in conation. 

If now we turn to the second condition of the problem 
and ask how far these elementary psychical capacities are 
measurable, we are confronted with certain obvious diffi- 
culties. Our psychical states are not quantitatively com- 
parable in the way in which material magnitudes are so. 
We cannot, for example, say that one sensation has pre- 
cisely three times the intensity of another. Yet, as we 
have seen, the new science of psycho-physics, or, to use a 
more exact expression, psychometry, has made a promising 
beginning in carrying out certain simple quantitative de- 
terminations. 

Psychical phenomena may be said to exhibit three as- 
pects under which they admit of quantitative comparison 
or measurement. (#) Of these the first and most obvious 



4 o2 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

is Intensity. The various modes of determining this, in 
the case of the simpler psychical phenomena, sensations, 
have been dealt with above. It is evident that these 
methods of measurement are fitted to determine individual 
variations. Thus individuals can be compared with some 
exactness in respect both of absolute and discriminative 
sensibility to intensity of light, sound, and so forth. It is 
probable that by help of a suitable psycho-physical appara- 
tus other psychical phenomena, as feeling and conative 
effort, may be similarly measured in respect of intensity. 

(b) Next to intensity we have Duration, or time-magni- 
tude. All psychical phenomena have this dimension, and, 
as we have seen, important experimental contributions 
have been made to the measurement of this quantitative 
aspect of mind. More particularly, the inquiries into Re- 
action-time (see p. 90) have led to some amount of exact 
knowledge of the time occupied, not only by transmission 
of nervous excitation from periphery to centre, and con- 
versely, but by the central psycho-physical process itself. 
Here, too, important individual differences have been noted, 
and this line of inquiry promises to be a fruitful instrument 
of a comparative measurement of psychical processes. 
Thus the power of adjustment to sensations (attention), of 
associative suggestion, and even of judgment and choice, 
may be measured in the case of any individual by means of 
the experiments already devised, that is to say, by com- 
paring the duration of the process in the case of different 
persons, and estimating the particular psychical power in- 
volved as inversely proportional to this. 

(c) Lastly, a bare reference may be made to Extensity, 
and what is only another aspect of this, Complexity. The 
discrimination of extensive magnitudes may be estimated 
in the same way as that of intensive. As pointed out 
above, individuals differ greatly in respect of the delicacy 
of the tactual discrimination of points, and these differ- 
ences of local aspect can be numerically determined. An- 
other direction of psychical measurement in which range or 
complexity comes in is what has been called "span of pre- 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



493 



hension," or the number of visible objects clearly distin- 
guishable by a momentary glance. It is highly probable 
that here, too, important inequalities would be discover- 
able among different persons. Comparative measurement 
of this power might be supplemented by that of the power 
of grasping a succession of sense-impressions, as those of 
sound. Some interesting experiments go to show that this 
capability varies pretty uniformly with age and degree of 
intelligence, and might with advantage be taken as at least 
a rough criterion in the estimation of children's mental 
power as a whole. 

Causes of Individual Variation. If mental develop- 
ment in its common typical form is a product of two fac- 
tors, congenital power, and exercise of function or what 
we commonly call experience, we may infer that all varia- 
tions depend on differences in these two factors. That is 
to say, every degree of general superiority or inferiority of 
mind, and every special modification of mental pattern, 
arise from certain differences in the original psycho-physi- 
cal constitution or in the life-experience of the individual. 

That the primitive psycho-physical constitution is vari- 
able from individual to individual is a fact of common ob- 
servation. Just as a glance tells us that no two human 
faces, even at the age of infancy, are perfectly similar, so 
we have reason to suppose that no two human brains, and 
consequently no two sums of mental capacity, are alike. 
The most careful observers of infants are able to point to 
important psycho-physical differences, e. g., in the effect of 
sense-impressions in calling forth the reaction of attention 
and motor phenomena generally, which appear in the first 
week of life. 

These congenital variations are by some ascribed to ever-varying re- 
sultants of the forces of heredity. Thus a child is a new and unique prod- 
uct because it represents a new combination of ancestral influences. Ac- 
cording to this view, individuation is the result of a continually changing 
mixture of hereditary tendencies. It cannot, however, be said that the 
theory of heredity has as yet succeeded in making this mode of explaining 
native individuality or idiosyncrasy perfectly clear Congenital variations 
probably involve the action of other causes which are as yet unknown. 



494 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Whatever the nature and extent of these congenital or- 
ganic foundations of individuality, they have to be sup- 
plemented by our second factor, viz., functional exercise. 
The biologist's conception of development is that of a pro- 
cess of interaction between organism and environment. As 
we have seen, mental growth is determined by the presence 
of suitable stimuli or excitants in the environment. These 
external conditions vary considerably from individual to 
individual. Thus no two children, not even members of 
the same family, come under precisely similar physical con- 
ditions, as temperature, nutrition, excitation of movement, 
etc. The succession of sense-stimuli, with their corre- 
spondent motor reactions, making up the life-experience 
of an infant, is a different one in every case. Still more 
evidently is the human environment a variable one. Even 
twin members of a family have an unlike social milieu in so 
far as the parents and others feel and behave differently 
towards them. This modifying action of the human envi- 
ronment is strikingly illustrated in the marvellous results 
attained by the best systems of individual education. Laura 
Bridgman, after her early loss of sight and hearing, would 
have remained an imbecile but for Dr. Howe's devotion of 
his time and energies to the problem of educating the little 
unfortunate. 

We may say, then, that individual development is the 
action of what Mr. Galton has happily called " nurture " 
upon " nature." The possibilities are no doubt organically 
determined from the first. A child never becomes that for 
which he has not a native aptitude. Yet, while the broad 
limits are thus fixed by nature or congenital organisation, 
the determination of what particular original tendencies 
shall be developed falls to the environment. This may be 
said to work selectively, strengthening and maturing certain 
among the congenital tendencies rather than others. 

Extreme Variations: (a) Variations of Height, 
Genius. With this general idea of psychical variation to 
guide us, we may just glance at some of the more remark- 
able cases of individuality. Here we shall best begin with 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 495 

the extremes of evolutional height. At the one extreme we 
have arrested development and imbecility, a phenomenon 
which is commonly looked upon as abnormal and patho- 
logical. At the other extreme we meet with what is called 
the great mind. A word or two may be added on this in- 
teresting example of variation. 

Men and women of great and remarkable minds, or, as 
they are popularly described, of genius, are known to have 
an exceptional cerebral organisation. In many cases, at 
least, this cerebral development is out of proportion to 
the total organic development. We may thus, from a bio- 
logical point of view, roughly describe a great man as one 
in whom the cerebral organisation reaches the highest 
known point of development. 

Statistical research goes to show that men of this pre- 
ternatural mental power manifest their superiority at an 
early stage of development. In other words, they are, as a 
rule, precocious. The outward expansive tension of the 
congenital impulse is illustrated in the well-known fact that 
many a distinguished artist and man of science has pushed 
his way to self-realisation independently -of, and in oppo- 
sition to, external circumstances. Thus the greatest minds 
show in the most marked way the selective determination 
of the (individual) environment by the organism. It may 
be added that, according to the inquiries of Mr. Galton, 
these mental giants go on developing through an excep- 
tionally long period. 

As hinted above, a great mind is more than a preter- 
naturally strong intellect. This is obvious in the case of 
those to whom we are wont to ascribe genius, viz., the crea- 
tors of art and literature. The poet and musician are deter- 
mined quite as much by the extraordinary acuteness and 
depth of their feeling as by superiority of the specifically 
intellectual functions. Not only so, as we know on the 
testimony of more than one great man, effective greatness, 
that is, power which realises itself in production, involves 
sovereign strength of will in the shape of strenuous ambi- 
tion and masterful concentration. 



49 6 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Extraordinary mental force tends to be developed at the expense of the 
other organic powers. Thus the man of great intellect or genius has fre- 
quently been characterised by marked moral failings, weakness of will in 
the control of the passions, and so forth. Indeed, this fact, taken along 
with the liability to physical disorder, which is often noticeable, has led 
certain writers to go so far as to regard the organic basis of all genius 
as a neurosis or abnormal deviation from the healthy type of nervous 
organisation. 

(b) Extreme of Normal Pattern : Eccentricity of 
Character. We may now pass to the other kind of psy- 
chological extreme, viz., that mode of structural variation 
of mental character which departs most widely from the 
typical form. All individuality is, as we have seen, a modi- 
fication of the common ideal type in particular directions. 
There are, however, certain limits to what we regard as 
the normal extreme of these variations. Where the indi- 
vidual shows such preponderance of particular impulses 
and tendencies as to give rise to the appearance of defect- 
iveness in what we consider the common features of a 
human mind, we are apt to characterise it as eccentricity. 
Thus extreme concentration even on a worthy aim, as art 
or science, when it is accompanied by apparent neglect of 
so vital a matter as the bodily health, is wont to be viewed 
with suspicion. As is well known, a number of great men, 
for example, Newton, Beethoven, have been marked by 
such peculiarities, whence the amount of literature that has 
occupied itself with the "eccentricities of genius." 

In these extremes of eccentricity we have, it is evident, 
to do with phenomena that lie on the boundary line be- 
tween the normal and the abnormal. Our exposition of 
mental development has occupied itself with the normal 
type : yet, in order to give an adequate idea of mind in its 
concrete manifestations, we must make a brief reference 
to abnormal variations from this type. 

The Normal and the Abnormal Mind. The dis- 
tinction of normal and abnormal, and the closely related 
distinction of healthy or sane and pathological or insane, 
are psychological in so far as they point to actual differ- 
ences of psychical or, to speak more completely, psycho- 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



497 



physical phenomena. An abnormal mind is one, the par- 
ticular organic conditions and manifestations of which 
deviate by a considerable and easily recognisable interval 
from the typical plan of psycho-physical configuration. An 
instance may be found in an extreme doting affection for 
certain animals, amounting to self-denying devotion, and a 
correlative indifference to human objects of benevolence. 

At the same time, it is evident that we have to do here 
with more than a purely psychological or matter-of-fact 
distinction. The significance of the contrast is only under- 
stood when we regard it as teleological and practical. The 
normal is adjustment of organism to environment, the ab- 
normal is mal-adjustment. Our practical instincts lead us 
to mark off sharply those amounts of individual deviation 
from the standard type which render the subject incapable, 
irresponsible for his actions, a burden if not also a menace 
to society. 

A glance at some of the familiar examples of mental 
obliquity or unsoundness will at once show this to be so. 
Thus a disturbance of that fundamental reaction of mind 
to environment which we call perception, leading to indi- 
vidual " illusions of sense," is one of the indications of ab- 
normality most plainly recognised. Similarly where the 
realities of the surroundings are misapprehended through 
the rise of bizarre delusions of the imagination. In like 
manner, perversions of the feelings, such as transformations 
of what we call ' natural ' affection into its opposite, also of 
the active impulses, as in the direction of the volitional 
energies to what is whimsical and commonly regarded as 
valueless, are popularly viewed as manifestations of mental 
unsoundness. 

Abnormal Tendencies in Normal Life. As already 
observed, the normal typical mind is a scientific fiction 
never fully realised. The truth of this proposition is strik- 
ingly illustrated in the fact that in the case of all men there 
are discoverable, more or less distinctly, tendencies which 
point in the direction of the abnormal. Thus, if we look 
at the phenomena of sense-perception, we see that there is 
32 



493 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



in the case of no man an exact correspondence throughout 
between mental percepts and external realities. There are 
common tendencies to sense-illusion due to unalterable 
conditions of our sensibility, as in the effect of colour- 
contrast, or to the overpowering effects of habit, as in the 
partial deceptions of the mirror, and so forth. Since, how- 
ever, these errors of sense-perception are of minimal extent 
and importance, and are, moreover, connected with what 
on the whole is a normal psycho-physical condition, they 
are with reason disregarded.* 

The phenomenon of occasional abnormality manifests 
itself more plainly in those disturbances of sense-perception 
which arise from temporary organic conditions. Thus the 
tendency to Illusions of the Senses, that is, misinterpreta- 
tion of sense-impressions under mental excitement and a 
too powerful imaginative anticipation, as when a timid and 
superstitious person mistakes an object indistinctly seen in 
the dark for a ghost or hobgoblin, is clearly a case of mal- 
adjustment, and of a kind of mal-adjustment which leads 
to wasteful and hurtful action. Still more clearly is there 
the phenomenon of occasional abnormality where through 
a disturbance of either peripheral or central nervous struct- 
ure the subject 'reacts' in the form of a sensation where 
no external stimulus is at work. Of these subjective coun- 
terfeits of objectively excited sensations, again, the most 
distinctly abnormal, because the most significant of hurtful 
organic disturbance, are what are known as Hallucinations, 
that is, pseudo-perceptions of external objects where none 
exist, as when a person imagines he hears another's voice 
though no external sound is present. f 

* See my volume Illusions, chaps, iii.-v. I have there tried to show 
that what we may call normal, that is, common as distinguished from 
individual sense-illusion, is analogous to the occasional error arising from 
the deductive application of a general principle which is only approxi- 
mately true. 

f On the distinction of Illusion and Hallucination see my volume 
Illusions, p. ii and p. in and following. It has been ascertained by the 
statistical researches of E. Gurney that about one out of every ten healthy 
persons has at some time been the subject of a hallucination. 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



499 



Dreams as Abnormal Phenomena. Among the ab- 
normal or <//{asi-a.bnorma.l incidents of what on the whole is 
normal life are the phenomena of dreams. The phantasms 
of sleep are abnormal inasmuch as they assume the char- 
acter of sense-phenomena which do not correspond with 
the real external world of the moment, viz., illusions and 
hallucinations. As such they are, besides, deviations of 
the action of the individual from the common type of ac- 
tion. A man's dream-experiences are an isolated life. 
Dreaming, moreover, is evidently connected with a tem- 
porary disturbance of the ordinary cerebral conditions, viz., 
that underlying the state of sleep, and probably resolvable 
into an altered condition of the intra-cranial circulation-. 

At the same time we do not regard the dreams of ordi- 
nary sleep as abnormal in the sense in which hallucinations 
in the waking state are so. This is due to the fact that 
sleep is a regular and periodic incident of normal life, and 
one, moreover, which is known to benefit the organism by 
promoting nutrition and recuperation of the several struct- 
ures. So far as dreaming is connected with and a result of 
such healthy and beneficial sleep it may be viewed as normal. 

How far this is really so is a matter of dispute. It is a question much 
debated by physiologists and metaphysicians whether all natural sleep is 
accompanied by a faint remnant of consciousness, or whether the healthiest 
sleep is not a condition of perfect dreamlessness. Supposing the latter to 
be the case, dreaming would, of course, assume the aspect of a slightly 
abnormal phenomenon. However this be, for practical purposes ordinary 
dreaming may be regarded as harmless, since it involves merely a temporary 
confusion of the presentative order, together with the connected ideas and 
feelings, and does not lead to wrong motor reactions. Where, however, as 
in the case of the sleep-walker, such reactions are forthcoming the abnor- 
mality of the psychical state forces itself on our attention.* 

Artificial Sleep : The Hypnotic State. Closely re- 
lated to the phenomena of natural sleep is that artificially 
induced state which has been variously described as the 
Magnetic, the Mesmeric, and, more recently, the Hypnotic 

* For a fuller account of the phenomena of dreams, see my volume Illu- 
sions, chap. vii. 



$oo 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



trance. This, which has of late been made the subject of 
a vast amount of experimental research, is a particular 
cerebro-psychical condition inducible in a certain number 
of persons having the requisite susceptibility by various 
means, as by getting the subject to fix his eyes steadily on 
a bright button held near the forehead, by stroking the skin 
of the head, face, etc. The result of these operations is a 
state of sleep in which the subject is, as in natural sleep, 
though much more profoundly, insensible to sense-stimuli 
generally, but continues to react to stimuli coming from the 
operator, as in following out a command, however absurd 
and even hurtful. 

The mental phenomena observable in the hypnotic state 
are highly curious and of great value to the student of 
normal psychoses. They are, however, too complicated, 
and as yet too imperfectly understood, for one to attempt 
a full description of them in a work on general psychology. 
A word or two on some of the more important aspects of 
the state must suffice. 

As the name hypnotism suggests, the state has a close 
analogy to that of normal sleep. Thus there is a rupture 
with, and forgetfulness of, waking experience, and so an 
interruption of the current of normal self-consciousness. 
As in natural sleep, so here there is a tendency to a nar- 
rowed intensified imaginative consciousness or " mono-ide- 
ism." Since the mass of external sense-stimuli remains in- 
operative the subject is wholly possessed by the particular 
images suggested. Again, as in much of our dreaming, 
the emotions are roused to a preternatural degree of in- 
tensity. 

At the same time, the hypnotic state contrasts with that 
of normal sleep. This contrast already shows itself, as 
pointed out above, in the fact that the hypnotic patient re- 
mains sensibly awake and particularly alert to one region 
of impression, viz., that answering to the actions of the operator. 
Among other points of difference one of the most important 
is the circumstance that hypnosis includes as one of its 
main manifestations the action of the voluntary muscles. 



CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



50I 



The hypnotised subject does things, e.g., drinks a nauseous 
draught, in obedience to the suggestion of the operator 
that it is pleasant. This activity of the motor apparatus 
gives greater volume, as also greater clearness of mani- 
festation, to the emotions aroused in the state, and, what is 
more important, renders the actions called forth organic re- 
actions to environment in the complete sense. It is under 
this aspect that they show themselves most distinctly ab- 
normal, and akin to the actions of a madman. 

Under another of its aspects the hypnotic state con- 
trasts with normal sleep, and has a closer analogy to that 
of alternating consciousness or double personality which is 
known to have been induced in a number of cases by cer- 
tain forms of injury to the brain. Our successive lapses 
into the dream-world do not constitute one connected ex- 
perience, but a series of disconnected ones. In the case of 
the hypnotised subject, however, there is the curious phe- 
nomenon of the recollection during a trance of what happened 
in preceding trances, so that the successive trances are woven 
in a measure into a second experience or mental life with 
its memory of the past and its sense of continuity. 

One word must be added on what are perhaps the most 
remarkable phenomena of the hypnotic state, viz., the alter- 
ations of sensibility. Loss of sensation (anaesthesia) and 
abnormal intensification of sensibility (hyper-aesthesia) are 
both producible in the hypnotised subject. Here, again, 
we have phenomena analogous to certain familiar incidents 
of pathological disturbance. The psychological signifi- 
cance of these modifications in the hypnotic trance is that 
they are brought about by the central psycho-physical 
agencies of suggestion. The same line of remark applies to 
the striking phenomena of rigidity of body and paralysis of 
muscle which are well-known accompaniments of the state. 

Transition to Pathological Psychoses. The psy- 
chical phenomena just considered constitute an intermedi- 
ate region between healthy or sane and morbid or insane 
psychosis. In this last we have to do with a more or less 
permanent functional and structural disorder of the organs 



502 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



of mind, due either to organic predisposition (inheritance) 
or to injury. 

Such loss of normal completeness and equilibrium of 
mind may be induced by peripheral injuries, as in the case 
of the destruction of a sense, the loss of a limb. These 
peripheral injuries are, however, as we know, compensated 
by those new psycho-physical co-ordinations which a 
healthy brain is capable of carrying out. Thus, not only in 
the case of those born blind, but even of a child with the 
sense-apparatus so seriously impaired as Laura Bridgman, 
the higher development of the remaining senses, more par- 
ticularly active touch, has served to secure the required 
sensuous basis for a fairly complete development of mind.* 

It is far otherwise where the central structures are im- 
paired. In this case we see a real process of mental dis- 
organisation. Psychical factors which are essential to the 
normal pattern of consciousness are lost, other constituents 
acquire abnormal strength and preponderance, and the 
whole arrangement is distinctly a mal-adjustment to the 
circumstances of the environment. 

These disturbances, again, may be comparatively re- 
stricted, involving local degeneration only, or, on the other 
hand, extended and deep-reaching, involving a more general 
and profound disorder of the central organs. As examples 
of the former we have specialised forms of amnesia or par- 
tial disintegration of memory, such as loss of a partic- 
ular group of words, e.g., proper names, or word-deafness, 
i. e., loss of the ideational connexions by which we appre- 
hend or understand words. 

The more extended kind of disorder assumes a variety 
of forms which the pathologist seeks to classify. This is 
not the place to give an account of such brain-troubles. 
It may be enough to point out that the effect of mental 
disease is in general to substitute for the complex balanced 
system of psychical forces which we have in health, a com- 



* For a full and interesting account of the blind deaf-mute, Laura 
Bridgman, and the marvellous results of her careful education, see Profess- 
or Stanley Hall's article in Mind, iv. p. 149 f. 






CONCRETE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



503 



paratively simple state of things in which certain tendencies 
grow abnormally strong and predominant through the sup- 
pression of others. More particularly, the higher and 
latest acquired forms of psychosis, regulative processes of 
ideation, and self-control generally, tend to be dissolved, 
leaving the earlier and more instinctive tendencies uncon- 
trolled. Thus through the weakening of the regulative 
volitional factor the patient is unable to control his ideas, 
and his intelligence is wrecked ; or he becomes a prey to 
unregulated emotion, as where overweening conceit, timid- 
ity, or animosity becomes predominant, and helps to main- 
tain corresponding mental illusions, e.g., that the patient 
is an emperor, that his friends are bent on destroy- 
ing him. 

In this way, by showing us how psychical phenomena 
are affected when certain conditions are altered, the study 
of these morbid psychical states throws a valuable light on 
the conditions of normal mental processes. From it we 
may learn practical lessons, too, as the importance of main- 
taining that equipoise of function on which mental health 
depends ; the dangers of all one-sidedness of mental devel- 
opment, and especially of too narrow a concentration of 
mind on a particular group of ideas, unrelieved by any- 
thing in the shape of distraction and recreative activity ; 
and the unhealthy tendency that lurks in all excessive iso- 
lation from our kind, with its self-engrossment, or excess 
of "subject-consciousness," its culture of eccentricity, and 
its disregard of the wholesome and corrective influence of 
others' opinions and sentiments. 

Education and Individuality. The more concrete view of mind set 
forth in this chapter has important bearings on education. The teacher 
finds himself confronted with a number of individual minds, each of which 
has its own peculiar pattern or make. The work of instructing these minds 
is at every point conditioned by these peculiarities. Thus, the differences 
among children in respect of their way of attending, as seen in the con- 
trast between the persistent, concentrative, and the ' flighty ' mind, must, 
it is evident, serve to modify the method of instruction. Hence the teach- 
er requires all the knowledge that psychology can supply respecting the 
modes of variation among minds. A truly scientific method of comparing 



504 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



and measuring individual minds forms, indeed, one of the desiderata of our 
theories of education. 

The study of individuality is of great importance to the educator in 
another way. Variety of mind and character is not only a fact of Nature : 
it is a part of the end which the educator aims at realising. While seeking 
to develop in every child a complete typical man or woman, we should at 
the same time endeavour to cultivate all that is valuable in his individual 
and distinctive characteristics. The special bent of observation or of 
imagination, so far from having to be planed down to the uniform level, 
should be specially fostered. In this way education will succeed in form- 
ing living individual men and women, with their own proper natures fully 
developed. 

In thus aiming at the development of individuality the educator must 
keep steadily in view the border-line which divides healthy individuality 
from what is eccentric, and the abnormal just judgment must be exercised, 
especially in the care of children with strong specialised bents and cor- 
respondingly weak general powers, lest incompleteness and one-sidedness 
of development result, and lest the particular task or impulse grow ex- 
cessive, so as to warp the whole mental and moral constitution. 

The securing of the due expansion of individual traits is best effected 
by allowing a certain liberty of mental action. Even in teaching a class of 
children, we may encourage them to fix their mental eye on their own 
favourite aspect of it, and to develop their characteristic lines of thought 
and inquiry respecting it. Similarly in moral education, we need to bring 
home our rebuke or our instruction by getting the child to assimilate our 
words to his own special directions of thought and feeling. On the other 
hand, the just restriction of the tendency to variation, the securing of a 
wholesome conformity to the normal type of mind, may be effected partly 
by means of educational exercises specially directed to the calling forth of 
powers which are relatively weak, and which, when strengthened, will give 
symmetry and balance to mind and character, partly by bringing the child 
into daily contact with other and corrective patterns of mind. One main 
value of companionship in early life is due to the circumstance that it 
serves to rub down too protuberant angles of character, and to bring the 
child under the salutary influence of the typical mind. 

REFERENCES FOR READING. 

The concrete varieties of mind and character are dealt with, among 
others, by Dr. Bain, in his volume On the Study of Character ; and by F. 
Galton, in his work, Inquiries into Human Faculty (p. 19 ff.). A popu- 
lar account of some of the more important disturbances of mental function 
may be found in Prof. Th. Ribot's series of monographs, Les Maladies de la 
M/moire, etc. 



SUPPLEMENTARY NOTE. 

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY OF MIND. 
MIND AND BODY. 

In bringing this account of the phenomena of mind to a close we may 
revert for a moment to the metaphysical question, viz., as to what mind is 
in itself over and above the group of phenomena in which it is supposed to 
manifest itself. As already pointed out, this problem is best considered 
after an examination of the observable psychical processes, and seems in- 
deed to grow out of this. To this it may be added that the practical im- 
portance of the closely connected question of the immortality of the sou} 
has commonly led psychologists to point out what they consider the bear- 
ing of the psychological facts on the metaphysical problem. We may 
accordingly glance back on our results in order to see whether they are 
fitted to throw any light on this much discussed and deeply interesting 
question. 

The bearings of our scientific or <( empirical " psychology on these prob- 
lems may be briefly indicated as follows : (i) What view does a consider- 
ation of the phenomena of mind lead us to entertain respecting the inmost 
nature and ultimate sources of mental activity ? More particularly does it 
lead us to the hypothesis of a spiritual substance or soul, distinct from, and 
independent of, material things ? (2) What does a thorough-going study of 
the physiological concomitants of mental phenomena lead us to regard as 
the real relation between mind and body ? And how is this relation to be 
interpreted from a philosophical point of view ? 

In the history of philosophy we find that these different lines of inquiry 
have been pursued together. The discussion as to what mind is in itself 
must, it is evident, embrace that of its relation to its foreign companion, a 
material organism. Hence in tracing out the metaphysical bearings of our 
psychological study on the problem of soul we may most conveniently deal 
with the interpretation of what modern psychology, aided by physiology, 
tells us respecting the relation between mental and bodily phenomena. 

Here it is at once evident that we have to do with a problem partly 
similar, partly dissimilar to that ' epistemological ' problem already touched 
on in connexion with the philosophical treatment of cognition. In dealing 



506 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

with mind and body in their temporal juxtaposition we are not pri- 
marily concerned with the former as subject and the latter as object of 
cognition. At the same time, the epistemological and the metaphysical 
question are closely connected ; for, in conceiving of the body as a being 
or substance, we are led on to ask in what sense this material thing 
can have any detached or absolute existence apart from the mind which 
knows it.* 

If now we consider the conclusions reached by an examination of the 
concomitant phenomenal processes, psychical and neural, we find, in the 
first place, that it in no way justifies the reduction of the former to terms 
of the latter, viz., modes of movement of material particles. The phe- 
nomena of consciousness are sui generis. Thus, if we take the psychical 
elements, sensations, we discover no affinity between a taste or a sound 
and the accompanying series of molecular movements. The same holds 
good a fortiori of the higher psychoses, as ideas, the emotion of love, 
and so forth. We have thus in the evolution of consciousness a suc- 
cession of phenomena altogether disparate from material or physical 
phenomena. 

On the other hand, we have found that this unique series of events is 
correlated with another and disparate series, viz., the molecular movements 
in particular portions of the nervous system. This correlation is before 
all else a concomitance in time, that is, a synchronising of two series of 
events. The fact of this concomitance has been established with some de- 
gree of exactness in the case of the more elementary psychical phenomena, 
and though it is by no means fully proved in that of the more complex 
processes, e. g., imaginative invention, moral choice, it is presumable that 
it holds good throughout. 

Again, these two series, the psychical and the physical, not only run 
on together in time but exhibit certain correspondences in their respective 
variations. Thus, as we have seen, differences in intensity, extent, and 
complexity in our psychical states answer to similar differences in the nerv- 
ous processes (see p. 28). On the other hand, qualitative psychical dif- 
ferences, though probably correlated with differences in the neural con- 
comitant, are not correlated with homologous differences. That is to say, 
the difference between a colour and a tone, or two colours, has no analogy 
to a difference of form in the mode of nervous excitation. A like remark 
applies, too, to the processes by which psychical elements are organically 
combined and transformed into higher products. Discrimination, assimila- 
tion, and association, though presumably having their neural conditions, 
cannot be supposed to have conditions resembling themselves. There 
seems to be nothing in what is known or assumed regarding the nervous 

* On the di:tinction between metaphysic (or ontology) as theory of 
being, and philosophy as theory of knowledge, see Prof. Seth's article 
" Philosophy," in the Encyclop. Britannica. 



MIND AND BODY. 



507 



process underlying a consciousness of difference that is analogous to this 
peculiar mode of psychical activity. 

Coming now to the exact nature of the temporal concomitance, we find 
that the conscious series runs parallel only with an intermediate central 
portion of the neural circuit. In the process of peripheral stimulation and 
the propagation of its effect to the centre, and in the transmission of a mo- 
tor impulse from the brain to the muscles, we have a physiological process 
without any conscious concomitant. How are we to conceive of this par- 
tial parallelism ? Does it point to any true causal relation between the 
psychical and the neural factor, or does it rather suggest a parallelism of 
two disconnected processes, as of two rivers flowing side by side ? 

These questions have not yet been satisfactorily answered by scientific 
methods. According to a common view, more especially among physiolo- 
gists, we have to think of the chain of nervous events as complete and self- 
sufficient throughout. It follows from this supposition that there can be 
no causal action of consciousness upon the series of neural events, just be- 
cause., in accordance with the principles of modern physical science, more 
particularly the law of the conservation of energy, every phase of a series 
of movements is fully accounted for by a knowledge of the preceding 
phases. This view looks upon the appearance of consciousness at a cer- 
tain point in the physical succession as something collateral and apparently 
accidental. This doctrine is known as that of Human Automatism, the 
doctrine that we are essentially nervous machines with a useless appendage 
of consciousness somehow added. The doctrine obviously fails to explain 
why consciousness should appear on the scene at all. 

Opposed to this view, we have another which regards the psychical pro- 
cesses as at least as real as the physiological, having a reality which cannot, 
without setting at nought fundamental distinctions, be subsumed under, or 
even made subordinate to, physical action. This view is naturally the one 
to which students of psychology have on the whole inclined. It concedes 
that mental events are conditioned by nervous processes in the sense ex- 
plained above, but it declines to regard the one as in any sense the out- 
come of the other Some psychologists go further, and argue that a 
scientific examination of the facts goes to support the idea that con- 
sciousness in its turn stands in a causal relation to nervous action, since 
its intervention must be supposed to modify the form of the reaction. 
This efficiency of consciousness is especially maintained in the case of 
volitional acts. 

This slight sketch of the different scientific conceptions of the psycho- 
physical relation may suffice to show that we have here to do with a unique 
fact of our experience. We know of no analogous correlation by the help 
of which science is able to elucidate it. 

The difficulties of the problem are further illustrated in the attempts of 
metaphysics to find in a theory of the ultimate nature of mind and of body 
an explanation of the facts. The first and crudest of these theories is that 



508 OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

known as Dualism, according to which mind and body are distinct independ- 
ent beings having no real interaction, the appearance of such interaction 
being due to special interpositions of divine power. This theory offers, it 
is plain, no scientific, but only a theological or supernatural solution of the 
fact of concomitance. Hence it has not satisfied the thought of the mod- 
ern world, which has endeavoured to transcend the duality of mind and 
body by help of a single uniting principle. 

Such a unification may be attempted, first of all in one of the two direc- 
tions pointed out above, viz., by resolving either of the two factors into the 
other. In this way we obtain the metaphysical conceptions known as Ma- 
terialism and Spiritualism. The former attempts to reduce all substance 
to matter, and to view conscious mind as a product of this. This way of 
dealing with the connexion is open to the objections already pointed out, 
viz., that consciousness is a reality wholly disparate from material processes, 
and cannot, therefore, be resolved into these. It is further open to the 
criticism that it makes that which is immediately known (our mental states) 
subordinate to that which is only indirectly or inferentially known (ex- 
ternal things) ; also to the philosophic objection of idealism, that a ma- 
terial entity existing per se out of relation to a thinking mind is an ab- 
surdity. 

The other doctrine, Spiritualism, escapes the objections just urged. By 
conceiving of mind as the one real substance, and viewing the material 
body as in its inmost nature spiritual also, it simplifies the metaphysical 
question. In its turn, however, it hardly succeeds in meeting the difficulty 
of the juxtaposition of the two in the case of at least certain of the higher 
organisms. 

This leads us to the latest and most popular attempt to grapple with 
the problem, viz., that now known as Monism. According to this theory, 
both the mental and the material are real, or self-existent, but are not in- 
dependent realities. Consciousness and the fundamental property of ma- 
terial things, extension, are conjoint attributes of one and the same sub- 
stance. Thus the ultimate reality or fundamental substance is neither 
spiritual alone, nor material alone, but both. The parallelism of the two 
chains of events in the case of certain organisms points to the conclusion 
that the two attributes are inseparable, and only different aspects of the 
same reality, like the convex and the concave side of a curve. This doctrine 
plainly gets rid of the difficulties which beset the apparent interaction of 
mind and body. There is no interaction as the Dualist would conceive of 
this, but merely a parallelism due to the uniform co-manifestation of the 
two conjoined attributes. It may be added that it escapes the difficulty 
lurking in dualism and materialism, if not also in spiritualism, viz., that of 
the apparent limitation of consciousness to particular modes of material 
action, viz., functional movements of central nervous organs. According 
to monism, the parallelism runs through all things, inert as well as living 
matter, so that we have to conceive of every particle of matter as having 



MIND AND BODY. 



509 



its quasi-mental aspect. In this extension of the realm of mind, however, 
to material things generally, monism separates itself widely from the point 
of view of our common psychology, which conceives of mind and conscious- 
ness as co-extensive, and correlates this exclusively with particular collo- 
cations and formations of material particles.* 

* For an account of the several theories of body and mind in their con- 
nexion with psycho-physical facts, see Bain, Mind and Body, chap. vii. ; 
and Iloffding, Psychology, ii. 



THE END. 



INDEX. 



Abnormal psychoses, distinguished 
from normal, 497. 

Abstract, reduction of, to concrete, 
247. 

Abstract ideas, 282. 

Abstraction, process of, 261 ; educa- 
tional control of, 2S7. 

Accommodation, sensations of, 158 ; 
as law of feeling, 350. 

Accuracy, of observation, 176; of 
images, 186 ; of notions, 285. 

Action, voluntary, nature of, 405 ; 
complex, 447 ; arrest of, 448 ; con- 
trol of, 460. (See Movement.) 

Active consciousness, primitive, 76 ; 
in conative processes, 404 ; in de- 
sire, 418. 

Active sense, 73. 

Activity, mental, connexion of, 
with cerebral, 27 ; double signifi- 
cation of, 33, note ; in reproduc- 
tion, 223 ; in imagination, 241 ; 
in thought, 260 ; in reasoning, 
312 ; in desire, 417. 

Activity, muscular, 68 ; in attention, 
86 ; in desire, 418. 

Adjustment, in attention, 88 ; of or- 
ganism to environment, 122. 

^Esthetic imagination, 249. 

^Esthetic sentiment, definition of 
the, 38S ; characteristics of, 389 ; 
sources of pleasure-element in the, 
390 ; development of, 391. 



Esthetics, relation of, to psycholo- 
gy. 13- 

Affective, state, 33 ; tone accom- 
panying presentations, 338 ; ele- 
ment in sensation, 44, 76, 338. 

Afferent nerves, 17. 

Affirmation, distinguished from ne- 
gation, 301. 

After-image, positive and negative, 
1 So. 

After-percept, 180. 

Amnesia, 502. 

Analysis, involved in thinking, 261 ; 
induction as, 308. 

Analysis, psychological, 7. 

Analytic judgments, 299. 

Anger, feeling of, 379. 

Animals, thought of, 276 ; instincts 
of, 410. 

Antagonist muscles, action of, 70, 
87, 449, 462. 

Apperception, according to Herbart, 
96 note. 

Appetites, 342. 

Application of a principle, 312. 

Apprehension and comprehension, 
defined, 259. 

Approbation, love of, 380. 

Approbation, moral, 392, 394. 

Aristotle, on the laws of associa- 
tion, 219 ; on theory of pleasure, 

357- 
Arrest of action, 448. 



512 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Art, pleasures of. (See Esthetic 

sentiment.) 
Assimilation, as elementary function, 

35 ; nature of, 106 ; relation of 
differentiation to, 109 ; in thought, 
264, 269 ; in judgment, 293 ; in 
reasoning, 304 ; pleasures of, 387. 

Association, as primary intellectual 
function, 35, 102 ; general nature 
of process of, no; as condition 
of reproduction, 190 ; laws of, 
191 ; experimental investigations 
into, 198 ; as source of belief, 323 ; 
in growth of feeling, 371 ; in aes- 
thetic impression, 391 ; in growth 
of will, 427. (See Suggestion.) 

Associationalism, 332 ; in philoso- 
phy, 333- 

Attention, as elementary function, 

36 ; nature of, 81 ; function of, 
83 ; defined, 84 ; nervous process 
in, 86 ; as adjustment, 88 ; psy- 
chometrical experiments on, 90 ; 
fixation and movement of, 90 ; 
analytical and synthetical action 
of, 93 ; determinants of, 94 ; ef- 
fects of, 98 ; training of, 99 ; as 
condition of retention, 188 ; effect 
of, on process of contiguous inte- 
gration, 194 ; in imagination, 243 ; 
in thinking, 260 ; in comparison, 
256; in reasoning, 313; regula- 
tion of thought through, 464 ; in 
moral effort, 477. 

Auditory perception, of space, 169 ; 
of time, 171. 

Authority, influence of, on belief, 
330 ; relation of, to moral senti- 
ment, 393- 

Automatic action, of nerve-centers, 
24 note, 406 ; secondarily, 433. 

Automatism, doctrine of, 507. 

Aversion, contrasted with desire, 419. 

Bain, Dr. A., on place of retentive- 



ness in mind, 35 ; on plastic pe- 
riod of life, 232 ; on primitive 
credulity, 327 note; theory of 
pleasure and pain of, 357 ; on na- 
ture of motives, 447 note ; of emo- 
tions classified by, 378 ; determin- 
ism of, 479. 

Beauty, the beautiful. (See ./Es- 
thetic sentiment.) 

Belief, nature of, 301, 320 ; intel- 
lectual conditions of, 322 ; effect 
of feeling on, 325 ; and activity, 
326 ; logical control of, 327 ; rela- 
tion of authority to, 330 ; distin- 
guished from knowledge, 331 ; 
volitional control of, 467. 

Benevolence, as phase of sympathy, 

383. 

Berkeley, Bishop, theory of vision 
of, 164. 

Binaural perception, 169. 

Binocular perception, 154. 

Blind, tactual perceptions of the, 
135 ; perceptions of, after recov- 
ery of sight, 165. 

Body, localisation of sensations in, 
167 ; how related to self, 168, 316. 

Body and mind, connexion of, 16, 
505 ; metaphysical theories of, 

507- 

Brain, structure of, 19 ; as special 
organ of mind, 24 ; localisation of 
functions of, 27 ; synchronous de- 
velopment of, with mind, 28 ; dis- 
orders of, 501. 

Bridgman, Laura, effect of educa- 
tion upon, 494 ; impairment of 
senses in, 501. 

Cause, idea of, 297. 

Change of impression, bearing of, 
on attention, 92 ; dependence of 
mental life on, ic6 ; as condition 
of feeling, 344. 

Character, meaning of, 471 ; as or- 



INDEX. 



513 



ganised habit, 472 : as conscious 
reflexion, 473. 

Child, germs of voluntary attention 
of, 97 ; apprehends complexes be- 
fore qualities, 114 ; localisation of 
sensations by, 136, 151 ; visual 
perceptions of, 163 ; apprehension 
of own body by, 167 ; memory of, 
232 ; imagination of, 252 ; com- 
mencement of thought in, 272 ; 
use of names by, 277 ; judging of, 
292 ; reasoning of, 304, 307, 309 ; 
idea of self of, 316 ; instinctive 
feelings of, 368 ; attachments of, 
3S1 ; sympathy of, 383 ; moral 
feeling of, 394 ; imitative actions 
of, 429. 

Choice, nature of, 454. 

Classification, intellectual process of, 
274 ; logical, 285. 

Classification of emotions, 374. 

Classification of mental phenomena, 

32, 39- 

Clearness, of percepts, 176 note j of 
images, 185 ; of concepts, 286 
note ; of judgments, 314. 

Coalescence, of sensation with re- 
sidua of past sensations, 107, in; 
of associated elements, 112 ; of 
image and percept, 183. 

Colour, sensations of, 66. 

Command, word of, as aid to volun- 
tary movement, 429. 

Command of movement. (See Con- 
trol.) 

Common sensation, 45 ; relation of, 
to touch, 56. 

Common-sense, 330. 

Comparison, nature of, 264 ; objec- 
tive conditions of, 265 ; subjective 
conditions of, 266 ; discriminative 
and assimilative, 267 ; other forms 
of, 268 ; connexion of, with analy- 
sis, 268. 

Comparative psychology, 4. 
* 33 



Complementary colours, 67. 
Conation. (See Willing.) 
Concentration. (See Attention.) 
Concept, nature of, 269, 272 ; forma- 
tion of, 274 ; the logical, 284. 

Conception, logical view of, 271 ; 
process of, 274 ; as aided by lan- 
guage, 275 ; as dependent on so- 
cial environment, 280 ; as synthe- 
sis, 282 ; logical control of, 284. 

Conceptualism, 281. 

Conduct, as unified action, 445. 

Conflict, intellectual, 302, 353 ; of 
feeling, 352 ; volitional, 451. 

Congenital emotive associations, 368. 

Connate or congenital endowments, 
how arising, 78. 

Conscience. (See Moral sentiment.) 

Consciousness, seat of, 24 ; grades 
of, 82. 

Consensus, organic, 352. 

Construction, process of, 242 ; vari- 
ous directions of, 245. (See Im- 
agination.) 

Contagion of feeling, 381. 

Contiguous association, law of, 192 ; 
conditions of, 193 ; relation of, to 
suggestion by similarity, 216. 

Contrast, as stimulus to attention, 
106 ; suggestion by, 217 ; effect of, 
on feeling, 344. 

Contrivance, practical, nature of, 
248. 

Control, of action, 460 ; of feelings, 
462 ; of thoughts, 464. (See Self- 
control.) 

Convergence, sensations of, 158. 

Convergent suggestion, 221. 

Corresponding points of retinas, 

I5 + - r --U 

Cortex, special connexion of, with 

mental activity, 27. 
Cramming, occasional utility of, 228. 
Culture. (See Education.) 
Curiosity, connexion of scientific, 



5H 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



with imagination, 248 ; as impulse 
to intellectual activity, 387. 

Darwin, O, on memory of dog, 184 
note. 

Decision, nature of, 454. 

Deduction, mental process in, 311. 

Definition of notions, 287. 

Degree. (See Intensity.) 

Deliberation, 452. 

Depth, visual perception of, 156. 

Desire, analysis of, 415 ; and aver- 
sion, 418 ; strength of, 419 ; as 
motive, 420 ; relation of, to pleas- 
ure, 446 ; recoil of, 450. 

Determinism, 478. 

Deterrents from action, 450. 

Development, cerebral and mental, 
28 ; stages of intellectual, 117 ; 
and habit, 120 ; of feeling and 
willing, 121 ; as biological process, 
122 ; and social environment, 124 ; 
of the mind, as concerning educa- 
tion, 125 ; of memory, 231 ; of 
imagination, 252 ; of general 
thought, 272, 277 ; of inductive 
process, 309 ; of emotion, 365 ; 
of sympathy, 383 ; of feeling for 
beauty, 391 ; of moral sentiment, 
393 > typical and individual, 488. 

Difference, relation of, 103, 264, 
293. (See Discrimination.) 

Differentiation, biological and psy- 
chical, 103 ; distinguished from 
discrimination, 105 ; relation of, 
to assimilation, 109 ; how con- 
nected with associative integra- 
tion, 114; of emotion, 374. 

Direction, perception of, by touch, 
142 ; by sight, 157 ; auditory, 169. 

Disappointment, feeling of, 353. 

Disbelief, relation of, to belief, 301, 

Discovery, relation of imagination 

to, 248. 
Discrimination, as fundamental in- 



tellectual function, 35 ; distin- 
guished from primitive differen- 
tiation, 105 ; relation of, to assimi- 
lation, 109 ; as condition of reten- 
tion, 114, 188; in comparison, 
264, 267 ; in classification, 287 ; 
in judgment, 293 ; in reasoning, 
306. 

Disinterested action. (See Benevo- 
lence.) 

Disposition, physiological, 113, 182. 

Dissonance, explanation of musical, 
62. 

Distance, perception of, tactual, 
141 ; visual, 157 ; auditory, 170. 

Distinctness. (See Clearness.) 

Distraction, 86 ; pain of, 353. 

Divergent suggestion, 221. 

Division of mind, threefold, 32. 

Doubt, 302 ; arrest of action by, 
265. 

Dreams, as abnormal, 499. 

Dualism, philosophic theory of, 508. 

Duration, of sensation, 52 ; repre- 
sentation of, 209. 

Duty. (See Moral sentiment.) 

Eccentricity of character, 496. 

Education, relation of, to psychology, 
14 ; bearing of correlation of mind 
and body upon, 30 ; analysis of 
mind in, 41 ; study of primitive 
elements in, 79 ; as related to the 
development of the mind, 125 ; 
control of perception in, 175 ; of 
memory, 233, 236 ; of imagination, 
255, 256 ; control of conception 
in, 284 ; control of processes of 
abstraction in, 287 ; control of 
thought in, 314 ; of the feelings, 
395> 399 ! °f tne w iH) 43$. 482 ; 
of the moral sense, 483 ; effects 
of, 494 ; individuality in, 503. 

Efferent nerve, 18. 

Effort, nature of, 475. 



INDEX. 



515 



Ego. (See Self.) 

Egoistic feelings, distinction of so- 
cial and, 379. 

Elaboration, factors in mental, 102 ; 
unity of process of, 114. 

Elements of mind in education, 79. 

Emotion, as higher feeling, 358 ; 
structure of, 3C2 ; rise and fall of, 
363 ; influence of, on thought, 
364 ; expression of, 365 ; spe- 
cialised manifestations of, 367 ; ef- 
fect of experience on, 369 ; differ- 
entiation of, 374 ; classification 
of, 374- 

End, definition of, 421 ; permanent, 
444 ; non-personal, 446. 

Ennui, nature of, 345. 

Environment, social relation of indi- 
vidual to, 10, 124, 280. 

Ethical sentiment. (See Moral sen- 
timent.) 

Ethics, relation of, to psychology, 

13- 
Evolution, doctrine of, as applied to 

explanation of instinct, 78 ; bear- 
ing of, on problem of knowledge, 

333- 
Exercise, as determining growth of 

faculty, 493. (See Development.) 
Expectant attention, 88 ; effect of, 

on perception, 184. 
Expectation, distinguished from 

memory, 204 ; belief, as connected 

with, 323. 
Experience, as source of belief, 323 ; 

effect of, on emotion, 369 ; on 

growth of volition, 425. 
Experientialism, in philosophy, 333. 
Experiment in psychology, 9. 
Explanation, nature of, 312. 
Explicit reasoning, 307. 
Expression of emotion, 365 ; laws 

of, 367. 
Extensity of sensation, 51 ; in sense 

of touch, 57 ; in sense of sight, 67. 



Externality, meaning of, 128 note. 

External world, reference of sensa- 
tion to the, 128 ; philosophical 
problem of, 178. 

Faculty, mental, theory of, 36 ; meas- 
urement of, 490. 

Fatigue, sensations of, 45 note. 

Fear, type of Egoistic feeling, 3S0. 

Fechner's law 49. 

Feeling, as mental function, 33 ; ele- 
mentary form of, 35 ; how related 
to the other mental functions, 
38, 337, 486 ; primitive forms of, 
75 ; connexion of, with imagina- 
tion, 249 ; effect of, on belief, 
325 ; demarcation of province of, 
336 ; essential characteristics of, 
337 ; relation of, to sensation, 
338 ; conditions or mode of pro- 
duction of, 340 ; classes of, 357 ; 
connected with sense, 358 ; com- 
plex, 362 ; ideal, 370 ; revival of, 
371 ; transference of, 373 ; rela- 
tion of, to desire, 416 ; control of, 
399, 462. (See Emotion and Pleas- 
ure and pain.) 

Fixed ideas, 447 note. 

Forgetfulness, 228. 

Form, perception of, by touch, 142 ; 
by sight, 152, 160. 

Free-will, philosophical doctrine of, 

479- 

Function, triple, of mind, 32 ; pri- 
mary intellectual, 34 ; affective, 
35 ; energizing or conative, 36 ; 
relation of faculty to, 36 ; physio- 
logical concomitants of, 37 ; in- 
ter-relation of the three funda- 
mental forms of mental, 38. 

Future, idea of, how formed, 208. 

Calton, F., on power of visualisa- 
tion, 187, 237 ; on development of 
genius, 496. 



5 16 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Generalisation, process of, 275 ; pos- 
sibility of, without language, 276 ; 
relation of, to inductive reason- 
ing, 309 note. 

Generic image, 272. 

Genetic method, 8. 

Geometric and mechanical proper- 
ties of bodies, 134. 

Geometry, notions of, how formed, 
284. 

Goldscheider, A., his researches on 
sensations of pressure, 57 ; on dis- 
crimination of points, 58 note. 

Grief, as general form of painful 
emotion, 377. 

Growth. (See Development.) 

Habit, as physiological principle, 2 ; 
relation of, to development, 120, 
437 ; in rational processes, 314 ; 
effect of, on feeling, 350 ; in rela- 
tion to growth of volition, 432 ; 
degrees of, 435 ; as principle of 
conduct, 470. 

Habitudes, moral, 470. 

Hallucination, phenomena of, 499. 

Hamilton, Sir W., on cognitive fac- 
tor in mind, 38 ; on unconscious 
mental activity, 83 ; on redinte- 
gration, 219 ; on relation of lan- 
guage to thought, 280 ; feelings 
classified by, 378. 

Hardness, perception of, 144. 

Harmony, musical, 62 ; law of pleas- 
ure, 352 ; in objects of beauty, 391. 

Hartley, David, on association, 219. 

Hearing, sensations of, 61 ; pleas- 
ure and pain of, 360. (See Au- 
ditory perception.) 

Helmholtz, H. von, on musical tim- 
bre, 62 ; theory of, on colour-sen- 
sation, 67. 

Herbart, J. F., on priority of pres- 
entation, 37 ; on apperception, 
96 note. 



Heredity, transmission of mental 
character by, 78 ; bearing of, on 
feeling, 368 ; cause of individual 
variations, 493. 

Hering, E., theory of colour-sensa- 
tions of, 67 note. 

Hindrance and furtherance of men- 
tal activities, 352. 

Hobbes, Thomas, on need of change 
for consciousness, 105 ; on asso- 
ciation of ideas, 191. 

Horwicz, A., on priority of feeling, 
38. 

Hume, David, on laws of associa- 
tion, 191. 

Huxley, Prof. T. H., on importance 
of language, 281. 

Hypnotism, hypnotic state, 499. 

Idea, nature of general, 272. 

Idealism, philosophic doctrine of, 
178. 

Identification of object, tactual, 149 ; 
visual, 166. (See Recognition.) 

Identity, relation of, 293 ; personal, 
318. 

Ideo-motor actions, 423. 

Illusion of sense, 499. 

Image, mental, temporary, 181 ; dif- 
ferentiae of percept and, 182 ; 
coalescence of percept and, 183 ; 
reaction of, on percept, 184 ; dis- 
tinctness of, 185 ; generic, 272. 

Imagination, stage of mental de- 
velopment, 118 ; reproductive and 
productive, 238 ; limits to, 135 ; 
passive and active, 241 ; construct- 
ive, 242 ; receptive and creative, 
245 ; relation of, to intellect, 
251; development of, 252; cul- 
ture of, 255, 256. 

Imitation, in practical construction, 
248 ; connexion of, with sympa- 
thy, 381 ; in development of vol- 
untary movement, 427. 



INDEX. 



517 



Immediate and mediate reproduc- 
tion, in. 

Implicit reasoning, 306. 

Impulse, gratification of, 341 ; act- 
ive, 405 ; co-operation of, 447 ; 
opposition of, 44S ; rivalry of, 

451- 
Individual differences, physical ba- 
sis of, 29 ; nature of, 488 ; varie- 
ties of, 4S9 ; measurement of, 
490 ; causes of, 493 ; treatment 
of, in education, 503. 
Induction, mental process of, 308. 
Inference. (See Reasoning.) 
Inheritance. (See Heredity.) 
Inhibition, nature of, as nervous 
phenomenon, 22 ; of reproductive 
tendencies, 221 ; volitional, 448. 
Innate ideas, dispute concerning, 

333- 

Innervation, sensations of, 6g. 

Insanity, distinguished from sanity, 
501. 

Instinct, instinctive tendency, range 
of, in man, 77 ; nature and origin 
of, 78 ; element of, in feeling, 
365 ; element of, in willing, 405. 

Instinctive emotion, 377. 

Instinctive movements, nature of, 
409. 

Integration, as primary intellectual 
function, 35 ; associative, no. (See 
Association.) 

Intellect, intellection. (See Know- 
ing.) 

Intellectual sentiment, 385. 

Intensity, of sensation, 47 ; of tac- 
tual sensation, 57; of auditory 
sensation, 61 ; scale of luminous, 
65 ; of attention, 85 ; measure- 
ment of individual differences in, 
491. 

Interest, relation of, to attention, 94 ; 
effect of, in voluntary attention, 
97- 



Interests, formation of, 4S6. 

Internal observation. (See Intro- 
spection.) 

Introspection, as a source of psycho- 
logical knowledge, 4 ; value of, 5. 

Intuition of things, by touch, 147 ; 
by sight, 165. 

Intuitionalism, philosophic doctrine 
of, 332. 

Intuitive judgments, 303. 

Intuitive knowledge of space, theo- 
ries of, 353. 

Invention, mechanical, nature of, 248. 

James, Prof. W., on muscular sensa- 
tions, 69 note, 

Jevons, W. S., on cramming, 228. 

Joy, general form of pleasurable 
emotion, 377. 

Judgment, definition of, 290; relation 
of, to conception, 291 ; a process 
of mental synthesis, 292 ; differ- 
ence and likeness in, 293 ; mathe- 
matical, 295 ; causal, 296 ; gen- 
eral antecedents of, 298 ; synthet- 
ic and analytic, 299 ; relation of, to 
belief, 300 ; affirmative and nega- 
tive, 301 ; as selective decision, 
301 ; suspension of, 302 ; relation 
of, to reasoning, 303 ; practical, 
307 ; training of, 333. 

Juxtaposition of excitations, 352. 

Kant, his philosophy of perception, 
178. 

Knowing, intellection, as fundamen- 
tal mental function, 33 ; constitu- 
ents of, 34 ; relation of, to feeling 
and willing, 38, 486 ; pleasures of, 

385. 
Knowledge, distinguished from 
knowing, 12 ; as systematised be- 
lief, 327 ; as social product, 328 ; 
philosophical theory of, 331. 

Language, as medium of reproducing 



5i8 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



knowledge, 204 ; as instrument of 

thought, 270, 275 ; psychology of, 

281. 
Laws of mind, 40. 
Lewes, G. H., on triple process of 

mind, 39. 
Light, sensation of, 65. 
Likeness, relation of, 106 ; discovery 

of, in comparison, 264 ; judgments 

respecting, 293, (See Assimila- 
tion.) 
Local discrimination, of sensation, 

51 ; in touch, 57 ; in sight, 67. 
Localisation of cerebral functions, 27. 
Localisation, of skin sensations, 140 ; 

of retinal sensations, 151 ; of 

bodily sensations, 167. 
Logic, haw related to psychology, 

13 ; control of concept by, 285 ; 

control of thought by, 314. 
Logical sentiment, 385. 
Lotze, H., on play of imagination, 

250. 

Magnitude, perception of, by touch, 
141 ; by sight, 153 ; real and ap- 
parent, 160 ; ideas of, 283. 

Materialism, philosophic theory of, 
508. 

Matter, material quality, perception 
of, 144 ; philosophic aspect of, 
178. 

Measurement, of sensational inten- 
sity, 47 ; of individual psychical 
capacity, 490. 

Mechanism of mind. (See Nervous 
system.) 

Memory, distinguished from expec- 
tation, 204 ; a cluster of particu- 
lar memories, 230 ; general and 
special, 231 ; development of, 
231 ; culture of, 233, 236 ; belief 
in, 323. (See Reproduction and 
Retention.) 

Mental faculties, theory of, 36. 



Mental pathology. (See Pathology 
of mind.) 

Method of psychology, subjective 
analysis as primary, 7 ; synthetic 
or genetic, 8. 

Mill, James, en association, 219. 

Mill, J. S., determinism of, 479. 

Mind, characteristics of, 1 ; how we 
come to know, 3 ; general knowl- 
edge of, 6 ; connexion of, with 
body, 9, 16, 505 ; organs of 24 ; 
triple function of, 31 ; elementary 
functions of, 34 ; analysis of, value 
to the educator of, 41 ; grades of 
conscious states of, 82 ; elabora- 
tion of constituents of, 102 ; va- 
rieties of, 489 ; normal and ab- 
normal, 496. 

Mnemonics, art of, 234. 

Monism, doctrine of, 508. 

Monotony, feeling of, 345. 

Moral character, 471. 

Moral discipline, 483. 

Moral effort, 476. 

Moral habitudes, 470. 

Moral sentiment, characters of, 392 ; 
origin of, 393 ; development of, 

393- 

Motive, definition of, 420. 

Motive-idea, 443. 

Motor representations, 199 ; as fac- 
tor in conation, 421. 

Movement, sensations of, 70 ; co- 
operation of, in touch and sight, 
73 ; primitive forms of, 76, 406 ; 
in tactual perception, 136 ; in 
visual perception, 151 ; percep- 
tion of objective, 162 ; expres- 
sional, 365 ; random or automatic, 
406 ; reflex, 407 ; instinctive, 409 ; 
voluntary, 414 ; imitative, 427 ; 
control of, 460. 

Muscular effort, nature of, 475. 

Muscular exercise in the training of 
the will, 438. 



INDEX. 



519 



Muscular sense, characteristics of, 
68 ; varieties of, 69 ; co-operation 
of, with touch and sight and other 
passive sensations, 73 ; concerned 
in attention, 86 ; involved in tac- 
tual perception, 136 ; in visual 
perception, 151 ; concomitant feel- 
ings of, 360. 

Music, sensations of, 62 ; appreci- 
ation of time in, 172. 

Names, relation of, to conception, 
2 75 > psychological function of 
general, 276 ; progressive use of, 
277 ; as substitutes for ideas, 280. 
(See Language.) 

Native capacity. (See Original Ca- 
pability.) 

Necessitarianism, 479. 

Negation, distinguished from affir- 
mation, 301. 

Negative pleasures and pains, 
347- 

Nervous system, reference to, in 
psychology, 4 ; structure of, 17 ; 
functions of, 21 ; mode of work- 
ing of, 23 ; connexion of, with 
conscious activity, 24 ; correlation 
of action of, with psychical pro- 
cesses, 27 ; nervous process in 
sensation, 44, 50 ; in attention, 
86 ; mental reproduction, 113 ; 
perception, 133 ; nervous con- 
ditions of memory, 232. 

Noises, explanation of, 63. 

Nominalism, 281. 

Notion. (See Concept.) 

Novelty, as affecting attention, 94 ; 
charm of, 347. 

Number, perception of, 143 ; visuali- 
sation of, 237 ; ideas of, 283. 

Object, distinguished from subject, 
3 note ; relation of attention to its, 
84 ; perception of, 146, 165 ; phil- 



osophic problem of, 178 ; desire 

and its, 415, 446. 
Objective movement, perception of, 

162. 
Objective methods of psychological 

inquiry, 4 ; value of, 6. 
Obligation, feeling of. (See Moral 

sentiment.) 
Obliviscence. (See Forgetfulness.) 
Observation, as regulated percep- 
tion, 175. 
Obstructive association, 225. 
Operation, mental. (See Process.) 
Organic sensations, 45 ; localisation 

of, 167 ; feelings accompanying, 

359- 

Organism. (See Body.) 

Original capability, 77 ; measure- 
ment of, 490. (See Instinct.) 

Past, representation of, 207. 

Pathology of mind, 501. 

Percept, as stage of intellectual de- 
velopment, 118 ; defined, 129 ; 
distinguished from image, 180, 
182 ; revival of, 181 ; coalescence 
of image and, 183 ; reaction of 
image on, 184 ; conditions of re- 
tention and reproduction of, 187. 

Perception, distinguished from sen- 
sation, 128 ; process of, 130 ; defi- 
nition of, 132, special channels of, 
133 ; characteristics of tactual, 
135 ; of space, 136 ; of matter, 
144 ; of weight, 146 ; of rough- 
ness and smoothness, 147 ; visual, 
149 ; of space, 150 ; of bodily or- 
ganism, 167 ; auditory, 169 ; of 
space, 169 ; of time, 171 ; musical, 
172 ; development of, 173 ; and 
observation, 175 ; psychology and 
philosophy, 178 ; after ^effects of, 
180. 

Persistence of objects, 148, 166, 295 ; 
of self, 318. 



520 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Personal identity, 318. 

Philosophy, distinguished from psy- 
chology, 1 ; of perception, 178 ; 
of universals, 281 ; of knowledge, 
331 ; of free-will, 479 ; of mind 
and body, 505. 

Phrenology, 27. 

Physiological psychology, scope of, 

9- 

Pitch, sensations of, 62. 

Plato, his doctrine of negativity of 
pleasure, 348, 357. 

Play, exercise of imagination in, 253 ; 
relation of, to the aesthetic func- 
tion, 388. 

Pleasure, relation of, to desire, 416, 
446. 

Pleasure and pain, as fundamental 
forms of feeling, 35, 338 ; as de- 
termined by quantity of stimula- 
tion, 340 ; as determined by form 
of stimulus, 343 ; effects of pro- 
longation on, 344 ; effect of change 
of activity on, 346 ; negative, 348 ; 
effect of habit on, 350 ; as result 
of harmony and conflict, 352 ; 
theories of, 357 ; of sensation, 358. 

Poetic imagination, 250. 

Position, sensations of, 70. 

Power, consciousness of, 431, 475. 

Practical science, relation of psy- 
chology to, 12 ; construction, 248 ; 
judgment, 307. 

Presentation, presentative element, 
distinguished from representation, 
118, 180; in perception, 131; re- 
lation of feeling to, 338. 

Presentative cognition, 1 18. 

Pressure, sensations of, 57. 

Preyer, W., on child's perception of 
self, 316. 

Primary and secondary qualities of 
bodies, 135. 

Process, mental, 1, 32 ; division of, 
33- 



Productive imagination. (See Con- 
structive.) 

Proof, 312. 

Proposition, judgment in form of, 
291. 

Protensive magnitude. (See Dura- 
tion.) 

Psychological classification, problem 
of, 8, 32 ; theories of, 37. 

Psychology, definition of, 1 ; method 
of, 7 ; experiment in, 9 ; physio- 
logical, 9 ; relation of, to other 
sciences, 11 ; relation of, to phi- 
losophy, 12, 178, 281, 331, 505 ; 
relation of, to practical science, 
13 ; relation of, to education, 
14. 

Psychometry, experiments in, 90. 
(See Measurement.) 

Psycho-physics, scope of, 10, 48. 

Psychosis, or concrete mental state, 
2 ; as triple process, 32. 

Punishments and rewards, office of, 
in developing moral sentiment, 

394- 
Purpose, relation of, to idea of cause, 

298 ; in will, 403. 
Pursuit, in process of recollection, 

227 ; feeling of intellectual, 387. 

Qualities, primary and secondary, 

135- 

Quality of sensation, 49 ; physiologi- 
cal conditions of, 50. 

Quantity, of sensation, 47 ; relation 
of, to quality, 51. 

Race, study of infancy of, 4 ; influ- 
ence of, on individual thought 
through language, 281. 

Random movements, 406 ; as start- 
ing-point in volitional develop- 
ment, 412. 

Rationalism, philosophic doctrine 
of, 332. 



INDEX. 



521 



Reaction-time, measurement of, go, 
492. 

Realism, perceptual, defined, 178 ; 
conceptual, doctrine of, 282. 

Reality, objective, cognition of, 148, 
178, 320. 

Reason, process of finding, 312. 

Reasoning, relation between judg- 
ment and, 303 ; mental process 
in, 304 ; implicit, 306 ; explicit, 
307 ; inductive, 308 ; deductive, 
311 ; activity of mind in, 312 ; 
training of, 333. 

Recognition, characterised, 107, 
212 ; of objects, 149, 166. 

Recollection, process of, 223 ; per- 
fect and imperfect, 227. 

Refinement, of emotion, 374. 

Reflexion, as element in character, 
473 ; motive of, 477. 

Reflex attention, 94. 

Reflex movement, 23, 407 ; as pre- 
cursor of volitional, 412. 

Regulative sciences, 13. 

Relativity, law of, 105. 

Relief, perception of, by the eye, 
160. 

Repetition, as condition of reten- 
tion, 113, 189 ; influence of, on 
contiguous association, 195. 

Repose, pleasures of, 343. 

Representation, representative imag- 
ination, as stage of intellectual de- 
velopment, 118 ; element of, in 
perception, 131 ; transition to, 180 ; 
trains of, 198 ; of time, 205 ; influ- 
ence of, on feeling, 371 ; in de- 
sire, 415. (See Image and Imag- 
ination.) 

Representative emotion, 377. 

Repression of feeling. (See Con- 
trol.) 

Reproduction, reproductive imagina- 
tion, relation of, to retention, no ; 
immediate and mediate, III ; 



main conditions of associative, 
112, 187 ; physiological basis of, 
113 ; laws of, 191 ; active factor 
in, 223 ; relation of, to productive 
imagination, 238 ; of feelings, 371 ; 
of movements, 421. (See Associa- 
tion and Suggestion.) 

Resistance, sense of, 72, 144. 

Resolution, volitional, 457. 

Responsibility, sense of, 480. 

Retention, retentiveness, as one of 
the primary attributes of intellect, 
35 ; as effect of attention, 101 ; 
nature of, no ; general conditions 
of, 112, 187. 

Revival of impressions or percepts. 
(See Reproduction.) 

Rhythm, perception of, by the ear, 
172 ; as pleasurable arrangement 
of elements, 356. 

Rivalry of impulses, 451. 

Rote, learning by, 204. 

Roughness and smoothness, percep- 
tion of, 146. 

Routine, as exemplification of habit, 
435- 

Self, bodily organism as, 168, 316 ; 
development of idea of, 315 ; inner 
or mental, 316 ; idea of, as endur- 
ing, 318 ; feeling of, 380. 

Self-consciousness, how related to 
consciousness, 83, 315 ; relation 
of, to cognition, 331 ; relation of, 
to feeling, 337 ; connexion of, 
with self-feeling, 380 ; in higher 
volition, 478. 

Self-control, process of, 459 ; par- 
ticular forms of, 460 ; limits of, 
468. 

Self-feeling, nature of, 380. 

Sensation, defined, 43 ; presentative 
and affective element in, 44, 339 ; 
general or common, 45 ; intensity 
of, 47 ; quality of, 49 ; extensity 



522 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



or local distinctness of, 51 ; dura- 
tion of, 52; of taste, 53; of smell, 
55 ; of touch, 56 ; thermal, 59 ; 
auditory, 61 ; musical, 62 ; visual, 
65 ; colour, 66 ; muscular, 68 ; rela- 
tion of attention to, 84 ; elaboration 
of, 102 ; relation of perception to, 
128 ; localisation of, 129 ; com- 

. parative revivability of, 229. 

Sensationalism, philosophic doctrine 

of, 333- 
Sense-feeling, nature of, 45 ; char- 
acters of, 358 ; complexity and al- 
teration of, 360. 
Sense-observation, training in, 177. 
Sense-organ, definition of, 46. 
Senses, the special, 46 ; the series 

of, 53- 
Sensibility, denned, 44 ; absolute, 

48 ; discriminative, 49. 
Sentiments, characteristics of ab- 
stract, 377, 384. 
Sight, sense of, 65 ; pleasures and 
pains of, 360. (See Visual per- 
ception.) 
Similarity, as law of reproduction, 
213 ; relation of contiguous sug- 
gestion to that by, 216. (See 
Likeness and Assimilation.) 
Single vision, 154. 
Singular judgments, 291. 
Smell, sense of, 55 ; pleasures and 

pains of, 359. 
Social environment. (See Environ- 
ment.) 
Social feelings, definition of, 379 ; 
ingredients of, 380 ; relation of, 
to the moral sentiment, 393. 
Solidity, perception of, by touch, 

142 ; by sight, 160. 
Sound, sensations of, 61. (See Hear- 
ing.) 
Space-perception, tactual, 136 ; vis- 
ual, 150 ; theories of visual, 164 ; 
genesis of aural, 169. 



Specific energy of nerves, 21 note. 

Speech. (See Language.) 

Spencer, H., on relations, 34 note ; 
on mental heredity, 78 ; on asso- 
ciation, 219 ; on conditions of 
pleasure, 357 ; classification of 
feelings by, 378. 

Spiritualism, philosophic theory of, 
508. 

Spontaneous movement. (See Ran- 
dom movement.) 

Stereoscope, 161. 

Stimulus, physical, in relation to in- 
sity of sensation, 48. 

Stimulation, law of, 340. 

Subconscious, mental states, 82. 

Subject, distinguished from object, 
3 note. 

Subjective method in psychology, 
(See Introspection.) 

Substance, relation of attribute to 

295- 

Succession^ consciousness of, 206. 

Suggestion, laws of, 190 ; contigu- 
ous, 192 ; of similars, 213 ; by 
contrast, 217 ; simple and com- 
plex, 219 ; divergent, 221 ; con- 
vergent, 221. 

Surprise, feeling of, 386. 

Syllogism, as form of deductive rea- 
soning, 311. 

Sympathy, general nature of, 377, 
381 ; imitative, 381 ; as element 
in moral sentiment, 395. 

Synthesis, as factor in thinking, 262 ; 
conception as, 282 ; in process of 
judging, 292 ; forms of, in judg- 
ing, 293 ; in reasoning, 311. 

Synthetic judgments, 299. 

Synthetic method in psychology, 8. 

Tact, 307. 

Tactual perception, characteristics 
of, 135 ; of space, 136 ; of impene- 
trability, 144 ; of weight, 146 ; of 



INDEX. 



523 



roughness and smoothness, 146 ; 
integration of, 147 ; co-ordinated 
with visual perception, 149. 

Taste, . aesthetic. (See /Esthetic sen- 
timent.) 

Taste, sensations of, 53 ; pleasures 
and pains of, 359. 

Temperament, ancient doctrine 
of, 30. 

Temperature, sensations of, 59 ; per- 
ception of, 148. 

Thermal sense. (See Temperature.) 

Thing or object, intuition of, through 
active touch, 147 ; by sight, 165 ; 
philosophical problem of, 178. 

Thinking, thought, as stage of in- 
tellectual development, 119 ; gen- 
eral nature of, 259 ; directions of, 

261 ; as analysis, 261 ; as synthesis, 

262 ; general, 269 ; relation of, to 
language, 270, 276 ; stages of, 271 ; 
logical and psychological view of, 
272 ; logical control of, 314 ; vo- 
litional control of, 464. 

Timbre, sensation of, 62. 

Time, perception of, by ear, 171 ; 

associational, 198 ; representation 

of, 205. 
Touch, sense of, 56 ; perception by, 

135 (see Tactual perception) ; 

pleasures and pains of, 359. 
Tradition, influence of, on belief, 

330. 
Trains, of representations, 198 ; of 

movements, 199. 
Transference, of feeling, 373. 
Typical, contrasted with individual 

development, 488. 

Unconscious, psychical processes, 

82. 
Understanding. (See Thinking.) 
Universal judgments, 291 ; how ar- 
rived at, 307. 



Universals, realistic theory of, 281. 

Variety, pleasure of, 347. 

Verbal associations, 201 ; memory, 
231 ; suggestion and belief, 324 ; 
suggestion and voluntary move- 
ment, 429. 

Vision. (See Visual perception.) 

Visual perception, compared with 
tactual, 149 ; of space, 150 ; bin- 
ocular, 154 ; co-ordination of, with 
tactual, 155 ; of direction, 157 ; 
of distance, 157 ; of real magni- 
tude, 160 ; of relief and solidity of 
form, 160 ; of objective move- 
ment, 162 ; growth of, 163 ; theo- 
ries of, 164. 

Visualisation, differences in power 
of, 187. 

Vividness of images, 187. 

Volition. (See Willing.) 

Voluntary attention, 97. 

Voluntary movement, genesis of, 
411 ; variations in type of, 423 ; 
development of, 425 ; connexion 
of, with idea of power, 431 ; rela- 
tion of habit to, 438. 

Want, pains of, 341 ; as element in 
desire, 416. 

Ward, Dr. J., on relation of psychical 
constituents, 39. 

Weber, E. H., on local distinctness 
of tactual sensations, 58 ; on sen- 
sations of temperature, 60 note. 

Weber's law, 49. 

Weight, sensations underlying ex- 
perience of, 57, 73 ; perception of, 
146. 

Will, willing, or conation, as ele- 
mentary function, 33 ; connexion 
of, with knowing and feeling, 38, 
404, 487 ; primitive rudiments of, 
76 ; nature of, 403 ; roots of, 405 ; 
the process of, 414 ; relation of 



524 



OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



habit to, 438 ; training of, 438, 
482 ; of complex forms of, 441 ; 
relation of higher to lower forms 
of, 474 ; freedom of, 478. 
Wonder, feeling of, 386. 



Words, associations of, 201. (See 
Language.) 

Young-Helmholtz theory of colour- 
sensations, 67. 



THE END. 



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